Wonderful World
by Thnx4theGum
Summary: Based on the Sam Cooke song. A B&B fluff-fic :
1. Chapter 1

**Here's a fanfic that is completely separate from my other oneshots. Not sure how long this will end up being but I hope you all enjoy!**

**Gum**

**Wonderful World**

It was late.

Special Agent Seeley Booth suppressed a yawn as he steered his SUV in the direction of his partner's apartment.

"If you are weary, Booth, I can always drive us the rest of the way," Dr. Temperance Brennan offered from the passenger's seat.

"No thanks, Bones," he shook his head, "We're only a few minutes out, I can make it."

She settled back into her seat and they made the rest of the trip in silence.

"Would you like to come up for a drink?" she asked when he pulled into the complex's parking lot, "I have some beer left over from the last time my father visited."

"Sure, Bones, thanks," he replied.

He would have walked her to her door anyway and this gave him an excuse to do so without her chewing him out for being overprotective. For the number of times that the scientist's life had been threatened in her own apartment building over the past four years you would think that she would appreciate it.

"You were planning on accompanying me anyway," she shrugged as they headed in the building; it was not a question, "So I decided I may as well offer you refreshment for your trouble."

He grinned, "My company isn't so bad is it?"

"Not at all," she replied, "Though you telegraph your intentions rather clearly you know?"

"How so?"

"Booth," she sighed, turning the key in her deadbolt and flipping on the lights, "I cannot think of one time in the past four years that you have not accompanied me to the door of my apartment. Your body language was no different tonight than it has been any other night, so I assumed that you intended to escort me to my door as usual."

"Again, is that so bad?" he accepted a beer from her and they sat on opposite ends of her couch.

"Not particularly," she smiled at him teasingly.

"Just think of it as me fulfilling your wishes," he tipped the bottle in her direction, "Following your new credo as it were."

She looked at him quizzically, "What in the world are you referring to, Booth?"

"'Always swim with a buddy.'"

"We aren't swimming," she pointed out.

"No," he threw back his head and laughed, "No we aren't."

They each settled into the couch, nursing their beers.

"Now," Booth stood up, stretched, and moved over to the stereo, "Let's put on some tunes."

"What does that mean?" Bones asked him.

"It means that while you've managed to move into the 21st century and buy a TV, you don't have cable and I don't think I'd be up for any of your documentaries or chick flicks at this hour. The only thing left to play is music."

"You could hardly call 'Pride and Prejudice' a 'chick flick,' Booth," Brennan scoffed as he paged through her CD collection.

"Bones," he gave her a knowing look, "There is not a woman I have met that doesn't like that movie and the guys who like it are few and far between."

"It's an on-screen presentation of a classic novel," she protested, "Virtually the only scene missing from the book is the epilogue. Nearly every other scene is transcribed verbatim."

"Chick book made into a chick movie," he waved her off, flicking on the stereo and popping in a CD that he had found.

"Now here's a classic," he grinned as the strains of Sam Cooke's "Wonderful World" filtered through the speakers. He pressed the 'repeat' button so that it would play several times.

He swept her off of the couch and into his arms in one smooth motion and began swaying to the music.

"Booth," she looked up at him, laughing slightly, "Are you inebriated?"

"Nope," he said, humming along to the music, "But you've gotta live a little, Bones."

He twirled her around in a tight circle with one hand and then brought her back into his embrace. She laughed and they continued dancing around the room.

_I can't believe she's letting me do this_, Booth thought as the song continued, _Two years ago she would've slapped me an sent me on my way. Even last year I'm not sure I could've gotten away with this. Guess she was serious about the 'surrogate relationship' thing._

He inhaled deeply, taking in the fragrance of her perfume, her shampoo, and her soap all mixed into one. It was a scent that comforted him after all of their years together- anumber of well-known brands that combined to produce a scent that was uniquely 'Bones.'

"This song could not apply to me at all, Booth," her soft voice cut through his reverie.

He looked down at her with a smile and they continued around the room, "How so, Bones?"

"Well," she cocked her head and he knew he was in for a mini lecture, "I do happen to know quite a bit about biology and science books, you know? And, I remember quite a bit of the French I studied while working as an intern in Montreal."

"What about history?" he said as the song began again.

"Of course," she matched him step-for-step, barely noticing that the song had restarted, "Anthropology is nothing if not the study of human behavior throughout history."

"And I assume you were always an A-student?" he commented lightly, twirling her again.

"Not always," she shook her head, "My grades suffered a bit after my parents left."

"Aw, Bones," he halted their dance and cupped her face in his hands, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault they left," she said quickly and pulled back from him.

"I know," he captured her hands again and resumed the dance, "But I didn't mean to bring that up."

She nodded silently and he felt her shift just a tad closer to him.

"So do you know what a slide rule is for?" he asked.

"Yes," she dragged the word out and looked up as if asking why he wanted to know.

"From the song," he cocked his head toward the stereo.

"Ah."

As the song faded for the third time, Booth wondered what kind of world it _would_ be if she loved him. He supposed that she would let him run his fingers through her beautiful hair as much as he wanted and capture her soft lips in his own.

He shivered at the remembrance of their only shared kiss. His tongue instinctively seeking out her own to the point that her gum ended up in his mouth.

It was times like this- when she was so close and so relaxed with him- that he dared to dream what it would be like to come home to her every night. He decided he would like it a lot.

"So does it do it more for you then?" she cut into his thoughts yet again.

"What?" he shook his head.

He'd heard what she'd said, but didn't think her mind was going the same direction as his.

"The song," she looked up at him innocently, "Does it apply to you more than it does me?"

"Yeah, I guess," he cleared his throat and dredged his mind out of the gutter, "I mean, I'm not dumb, but I definitely wasn't an 'A' student. 'B's', sure, but not 'A's' really."

"I never thought you were dumb," she murmured so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"Thanks, Bones," he whispered in her ear.

It may have been involuntary, but he felt her shiver in his arms, and the rooms' temperature rose suddenly.

They stopped in mid-step and stared at one another. In the background Sam Cooke crooned about knowing that he loved his girl. Time stood still.

Grey and brown orbs met, each probing the other. Auburn hair rose as short brown hair descended until mere centimeters separated their lips.

"Booth?" he could hear the weight in her voice as her breath passed through his open lips.

"Yes, Bones?" he returned softly.

"What are we doing?"

"Nothing," he could feel the longing in her gaze, "And everything."

She nodded slowly and closed the gap between their lips.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a surreal feeling.

Dr. Temperance Brennan stood toe-to-toe with her partner of four years, their eyes connected, lips mere centimeters apart, tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.

"What are we doing?" she heard herself ask, trying frantically to process the situation as it unfolded before her.

For the past four years she had observed Special Agent Seeley Booth under nearly condition imaginable. They had faced life and death together and their partnership had grown stronger as a result. She also conceded that their personal relationship had grown by leaps and bounds as well. He was her friend and confidant and she found herself confiding in him more and more as time passed. At times it seemed as if he was the one person who truly understood her and did not judge her one iota.

They certainly spent enough time together.

Most mornings he would swing by with coffee and doughnuts and whisk her away to a grisly murder scene or a suspect waiting to be interviewed. Even on the mornings that he had no official business with her he still showed up and made some lame excuse as to why he was there. She never turned him away.

If he happened to simply drop her off in the morning, she could always count on him to leave and show up again around lunch time. Like clockwork, he would arrive at the Jeffersonian by twelve-thirty with a sandwich, fries, and a drink if he knew she was engrossed in her work. If she got too involved, or was pushing herself too hard, he would drag her out of the lab entirely and force her to eat at the diner with him. It was endearing in a way.

Then at night- or early in the morning if it was a particularly difficult case- he would sit in her office and work through their paperwork with her. They both had stacks of it that had to be completed and he reasoned it was more efficient for them to work together from the beginning than fill things out separately and have to compare notes later anyway. She couldn't argue with the logic. The two of them would work, eat, fight over egg rolls, and bicker over the nuances of the case until finally they finished and he dropped her off.

That was what had happened tonight. Except tonight she had invited him in for a drink. She had willingly let him take her into his arms and they had danced around her living room floor. They had woven around furniture and bantered back and forth about how the song did or did not apply to each of them. Until finally they were here- now- a hairsbreadth apart.

"Everything," she watched his lips move in answer to her question, felt his breath, and tasted the Thai chicken he had eaten earlier, "And nothing."

Unsure of her exact motivations, she closed the gap between her own lips and those of her partner and kissed him.

At first, she was reminded of their kiss under the mistletoe last Christmas. Just as before, she had been the one to initiate the kiss. Both times their lips met hurriedly. Both times his tongue probed her mouth. Both times she felt a headiness that threatened to set her empirical world on its ear.

Only this time _was_ different.

There was no coercion involved. No promise of a favor to be earned. No audience to observe and ask embarrassing questions. And she found that she truly had no reservations left.

After a minute, he pulled back slightly and gave her a questioning look. She nodded and he resumed the kiss, deepening it as he steered her toward the couch.

She had kissed many men before- even Booth- but this kiss topped them all.

Somehow, he was managing to convey a multitude of feelings: years of friendship and what she immediately identified as love, mixed with passion and tempered by a deep, abiding respect culminated in an instant. Oh, there was a fair amount of built up sexual tension that was being released on both of their parts as well, but at no time did she feel as if he were trying to force himself on her. In fact, she suspected that he was holding back in deference to her and would only go as far as she would allow him.

They landed on the couch in an unceremonious heap and she found herself on top of his lap- his desire for her now extremely evident.

"Sorry," he reddened, repositioning her and willing his body to behave.

She shrugged, "It's a natural, biological response-"

"Shh," he put his finger lightly across her lips and halted her, "No biology talk, Temperance."

"Is that so, Seeley?" she responded teasingly, feeling more playful than she normally would be and attributing it to the alcohol, "Because-"

He cut her off again, this time covering her lips with his own and wrapping his arms around her.

Once again she was taken aback at how different- and yet how natural- it felt to be kissing Booth. She was not one to assess a situation based solely on feelings and yet she had never experienced anything like this before. It was as if she had spent the last several years of her life looking for acceptance and a place of belonging only to find that it had been staring her in the face all along.

Tentatively, she placed a hand on his chest, feeling his smooth, sculpted muscles beneath his thin, black t-shirt.

He groaned and the rumble it produced inside of her mouth sent shockwaves throughout her entire body.

He moved his hands through her hair as if he were trying to stroke every last strand while she let her right hand rove from his chest to his face and back to his chest again.

He groaned again. Loudly.

Their lips separated, heads pulling back, eyes opening and focusing on each other.

"Are we still doing nothing, Booth?" she breathed.

"And everything," he nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, "Is that okay, Bones?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Very good," she smiled, then frowned as she heard something, "I think my CD is broken. It's still playing that song."

Booth laughed and set her lightly on the couch with a peck to her cheek, moving over to the stereo and powering it down.

"I set it to repeat the song," he informed her.

"You can do that?"

"Yep."

"Interesting."

Booth sat back down on the couch beside her and she could tell he was amused by her lack of knowledge about her own stereo. She smiled at him to let him know the feeling was mutual.

Abruptly, he stood, "I should get going."

"Why?" she rose to follow him as he headed for the door.

"Bones," he said softly, turning to face her, his hand on the doorknob, "If I don't leave now- I'm not leaving tonight."

"What if I don't mind?" her hands were on her hips but her tone was soft and non-threatening.

"No, Bones," he shook his head and placed both of his hands on her shoulders, "It's late and we're both tired and emotional. That's not how I want things to be."

"Will you be back in the morning to pick me up?" she tried desperately to keep the pleading edge out of her voice but failed miserably in her fatigued state.

"It's Saturday, Bones," he reminded her gently.

"Oh," her head dropped, eyes looking everywhere but at him.

"How about I come over for breakfast?" he offered, lifting her chin back up with his forefinger.

"I think I would like that."

"I think I would too."

"Good night, Booth."

"Good night, Bones," he kissed her gently and opened the door, "Sweet dreams."


	3. Chapter 3

It took every inch of self-control to propel himself out of her apartment and into his car, but he managed it. Collapsing into the driver's seat, Booth took a deep breath and sighed, attempting to bring his blood pressure down to a safe level. For a brief moment he wondered what was going through his partner's mind right now, but then his own emotions crashed over him like a tidal wave.

After four long years of keeping his emotions in check and his body under control, he had lost it. He had taken her in his arms, danced with her, and then kissed her as if the world were ending tomorrow.

_No_, he realized suddenly as he pulled out of her parking lot and aimed his SUV in the direction of his townhouse, _I didn't kiss her. She kissed me!_

Not that it hadn't happened before, he reminded himself.

His cheek had burned for what seemed like an eternity the night she "thanked" him for allowing Russ to visit Amy and the girls in the hospital. And sometimes all it took was a certain look in her eye to drag him back to that fateful day where she had grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him hard and long under the mistletoe in her office.

But this, here, tonight? This had been completely different.

Not only had she leaned into him and initiated a kiss, but she had responded with fervor as he deepened it and they had ended up in a heap of arms and legs on her couch.

He shook his head to clear it, focusing hard on the road in front of him. For once he was thankful that it was very early morning as the traffic was virtually non-existent.

Fifteen minutes and two sweaty palms later he was in his house, in his bed, and still mulling over what had happened.

The cold shower had done him no good.

He moved his hand across his chest where she had stroked him. Her firm touch through his thin shirt had left little for the imagination and he could not have stopped the groan that had escaped him if God Himself had been in the room.

Until that point they had been Booth and Bones. Admittedly they had been Booth and Bones making out like lovesick teenagers in need of relief from four years-worth of sexual tension build-up. But in that moment they had become Seeley and Temperance- two very real people headed in one very clear direction. She wanted him and he most definitely wanted her.

They had crossed the line that he had so carefully constructed after Epps nearly killed her and Cam all those years ago.

Who was he kidding? The line had not just been crossed: it had been obliterated and left in the dust.

Hands had roved, tongues had collided, and not once had his Bones pulled back and fled the room in embarrassment as he had feared she would.

Quite the opposite had happened, in fact. She had flirted with him, teased him, and given him the go-ahead to continue every time he became unsure. In the end, when he had pulled away to leave before things got completely out of hand, she had come as close as he had ever seen her to begging him to stay. But as much as his body wanted to, his heart could not.

He wanted their first time to be special. He needed to know that he would not be just another satisfaction for her infamous biological urges.

His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts and he prayed that for once it was not the Bureau calling to inform him that a corpse had been found.

It was not.

"What's wrong, Bones?" he asked the nervous-sounding voice on the other side of the line.

"Nothing," she admitted sheepishly, "I just wanted to be sure you got home safely. You seemed a bit shaken when you left."

"I'm fine, Bones," he assured her.

"Good," he heard her say softly, then her tone changed, "I didn't wake you did I?"

"Nope."

"Good."

"Yeah."

They were silent for a minute.

"When did you want to meet for breakfast?" she asked suddenly.

He squinted at the clock.

"How about ten?" he suggested.

"Isn't that late?"

"It's two in the morning, Bones," he said gently.

"Oh," she said, surprised, "Ten will be fine then."

"Okay, Bones," he tried to stifle his yawn but failed, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Booth."

"Good night, Bones," he heard the click on the other end and whispered into his phone, "I love you."

He set his alarm for nine, rolled over in his bed, and fell into a deep, contented sleep.

On the other end of the phone, a forensic anthropologist gasped- and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning.


	4. Chapter 4

Brennan rolled over for what seemed like the thousandth time and wondered what time it was. She peeked one eye open and surmised that it was close to six in the morning, given the faint rays of sun that were beginning to creep over her through the blinds. She groaned and buried herself underneath her covers, trying to block out the growing light. Perhaps if she closed her eyes and tried one last time sleep would take hold.

The next thing she was aware of was her doorbell chiming. Wondering who was at here so early on a Saturday morning, she threw back the coverers and meandered to the door, shoving her hair into a loose ponytail as she went.

"Booth," she rasped upon opening the door, "What are you doing here?"

"Ten o'clock, Bones," he said, smiling gently at her rumpled appearance, "Remember?"

"Oh," she left the door open, letting him decide whether or not to come in, and moved to start her coffee pot.

"You okay, Bones?" he moved up quickly behind her and felt her forehead, "You don't sound so good."

"Couldn't sleep," she mumbled, trying in vain to twist the lid off of the jar that held the coffee grounds.

"Here," Booth eased the jar out of her hands and set it on the counter, "Why don't you go get a shower and get dressed and I'll make breakfast?"

"That's not necessary," she protested.

"It's no problem," he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward her bedroom, "Go ahead. Get your shower. Get dressed. I'll be here when you're done."

"If you insist," she turned around to face him, "I am not sure what I have in the way of breakfast food, however."

"I'll manage," he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and turned her around again, propelling her through the bedroom door.

Once inside, she closed the door and mechanically began picking out clean clothes for the day. His soft kiss had reminded her that he was not here for just another breakfast and she found that her mental fog was fading quickly in light of the events that were surely to come.

Once in the shower she let the hot water cascade down her back and clear her mind. Memories of the previous night washed over her. She remembered them kissing, him leaving before things got too out of control, and the phone call that ended with three words that haunted her all night:

"I love you."

They had been spoken so quickly, so softly, that she thought perhaps she had misheard. She wondered-given his ease with her this morning- if he had even meant for her to hear them. She also wondered if she would be expected to reciprocate those feelings should he decide to voice them again.

She certainly liked Booth and enjoyed his company. He was a strong, virile, male, and she would be lying if she said that she was not physically attracted to him on some level. Angela had pointed out several times that Booth would make an excellent sexual partner- though the artist seemed completely content to leave him to Brennan. And if last night's antics were any indication, there certainly was a fair amount of physical chemistry between the two of them.

Normally, this would have been enough for her to accede to a physical relationship without hesitation. Indeed, she had practically begged him to stay last night and sleep with her. This morning, however, she realized that she could not treat Booth as she had so many of the other men who had passed in and out of her life because- well, because he was Booth.

Special Agent Seeley Booth was her colleague, her partner, and most importantly- she realized- her close friend. They had a history together that spanned four years of triumph and tragedy. He had seen her at her most vulnerable moments and had remained her friend no matter what she said or did to him. Whenever she had needed him, he had been there and she found that the more she pondered their situation, the more she saw that needed him as her friend and confidant rather than her sexual partner or a short, romantic liaison. Always before, he had been there when her dating relationships came crashing down around her and if this failed with him she would lose even that. He was too valuable to risk anything else.

Emboldened by her decision, she stepped out of the shower, toweled off, dressed, and debated whether or not to apply her makeup. She went without, deciding that perhaps if she didn't look as attractive, he would not be stirred to pursue a physical relationship any further.

Walking out to the kitchen she inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of freshly-brewed coffee and breakfast foods.

"Just in time," Booth announced, flipping several pancakes onto an already leaning stack.

"I didn't realize I had pancake mix," she admitted, taking the plate from him and setting it on the table.

"You didn't," Booth assured her, "I grabbed some mix on the way over."

"Oh," she stared wordlessly for a minute at the table in front of her.

The place-settings were neatly arranged for two. A bowl of scrambled eggs and one with assorted fresh fruit accompanied the large plate full of pancakes along with a pitcher of orange juice.

"Alright," he said, turning off everything in the kitchen and coming to join her, "Let's dig in!"

She allowed him to pull out her chair for her and they sat down.

"This looks good," she observed, unsure of exactly what the correct response should be.

"What do you want to start with?" he asked, pouring each of them a glass of juice and a mug of coffee.

"Well I suppose we should discuss-"

"No, Bones," he cut her off gently, "I meant the food. We can talk later."

"Alright," she nodded, "I suppose I'll have some pancakes then."

"Great," he grinned, "The ones on the top are plain. The bottom ones have chocolate chips."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey," he laughed, "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

"I'll start with some plain ones," she said.

"Coward," he teased.

She reached over and punched his shoulder.

"You know, Bones," he smiled, "One of these days I'm going to have a permanent dent in my shoulder from all of this abuse."

She looked at the muscles that bulged underneath his t-shirt and smiled back, "I think you will survive."

"Hmm, I don't know," he wagged a forkful of eggs at her, "I mean, maybe we need to talk to Sweets about this. You know? Partner abuse or something like that."

She threw back her head and laughed at the idea- then choked as a piece of her pancake when down her windpipe.

"You okay, Bones?" he was at her side in an instant, "Do you need the Heimlich?"

"No," she gasped between coughs, "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," he gave her a concerned look.

Finally, the piece dislodged and she was able to breathe again.

She shook her head at him, "I'm fine."

"Okay," he rubbed her lightly on the back and sat back down, "But if you need some mouth-to-mouth just let me know."

"Funny," she replied drily.

He winked at her and they resumed their meal without further incident.

When the food was gone and the table cleared they adjourned to the living room and sat on opposite ends of her couch, facing one another.

"So-" they said simultaneously.

"You go first," Brennan offered.

"No, go ahead," Booth insisted.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I suppose we should discuss what happened last night," she said finally.

"Uh-oh," he said, looking pointedly at her.

"What?" she said surprised.

"I know that look," his voice became serious and he sought out her eyes, "You've already made up your mind about this haven't you?"

"Booth," she tried to convey the thoughts that had seemed so clear to her only an hour earlier, "It's not that, it's just-"

"Bones," he moved closer to her until their knees were touching, "Don't throw this away because you are scared."

"I am not scared!" she tried to pull away from him, but he would not let her.

"You are, Bones," he said gently, stroking her hair and forcing her to meet his eyes, "It's written all over your face."

"We can't, Booth," she said softly, "There's too much to lose."

"But so much to gain," he said huskily.

She shook her head, "What about the line?"

"What line?"

"The line _you_ drew, Seeley Booth," her voice rose, "The one that was supposed to keep moments like last night and mornings like this from ever happening!"

"Was last night so bad?"

"No," she reddened, "But what if-"

"Shh," he calmed her, "What if we live happily ever after?"

"That's for children's stories, Booth," she sighed, "Not us."

"You'll never know if you don't try," he urged.

"But who will be there to pick up the pieces if it does fall apart?" she said softly, begging him with her eyes to realize that he was simply too important for her to risk losing.

"I'm right here, Bones," he drew her into his embrace, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I can't lose you again," she managed.

Finally, he seemed to understand what she was alluding to. His grip on her changed and she thought that perhaps he had seen the wisdom in remaining as they were.

"Bones," his voice was tender as he pulled back, letting his large hands linger on her shoulders, "Temperance. You are-"

He stopped, as if searching for words, then started again, "What we have, Bones, it's special. Yeah, we're partners. And we are definitely friends- close friends. But this-" he took her hand and placed it on his chest, "This is something deeper than all of that.

"And yes," he halted the protest as it sprung on her lips, "I know that you have been hurt before by men. I know that they have wooed you and loved you and left you in the dust without a backwards glance. Even the men in your family have left you at one point or another and I know that you are tired of being abandoned and afraid of losing the friendship that we have.

"I also know," he stroked her face, "That you are not trying to be cold by turning down a relationship with me. I know you are trying to protect us both and that makes me want to care for you even more, Bones, don't you see?

"I can't promise you a relationship without problems or complications," he said seriously, "I'm not really promising a 'Happily Ever After' because we both know that's not realistic. We will fight. We'll bicker like we always do. I'll fail you at some point and you'll do the same. But I promise you with everything in me that if we start this, I won't give up on us. I won't use you or leave you for no reason.

"And if there ever comes a day when we realize that we just aren't cut out for each other," he kissed her lightly on the lips, "I will still be your friend."

For a moment, they simply sat there. Looking at one another. Holding one another.

"So what do ya say, Bones?" Booth said finally, "Shall we give us a shot?"


	5. Chapter 5

He watched her face intently as she absorbed everything that he had said. A myriad of emotions flickered across it and he could almost hear the gears in her mind whirring to keep up with everything that had happened. Slowly, her face rose to meet his and he could see that she had come to a conclusion. He prayed it was a different one from before.

"Those two weeks-" she stopped voice heavy with emotion, collected herself, and restarted, "Those two weeks that I thought you were dead Booth were horrid. Do you know why?"

He shook his head mutely. He had his guesses, of course, but he didn't want to intrude on her moment.

"Angela, Hodgins, Cam, and Dr. Sweets all determined that I had realized my love for you and was heartbroken that I had lost my chance at a relationship with you. In truth it was the opposite.

"For the first time I saw how truly dependant on you I had become. How deep of a relationship we truly shared. You were nearly always the first person I would talk with in the morning and the last person at night. If I needed someone to guide me through the complexities of social intercourse you were there. If I drove myself too hard or overextended myself too much, you were there to stop me and force me to interact with people again- even if it was only you.

"The one person-"

She stopped again, tears coursing down her cheeks. He helped her brush them aside and waited for her to start again.

"The one person that could have helped me navigate through such an emotionally tumultuous time was the person who was gone but my mind refused to accept it. At times, I tried to convince myself that you were merely away on vacation, or that you did not have a case for us. You had left a message on my voice mail and I played it again and again just to hear the reassuring cadence of your voice- to hear someone call me Bones.

"Eventually, I concluded that you had deliberately left me just as my father and brother had done before. You had willingly stepped into the path of the bullet and left me bereft of your friendship forever. I became angry and vowed that I would not even attend your funeral service. "

She stopped yet again and smiled softly at him, "Obviously, Angela convinced me otherwise, however, I went under heavy protest."

He nodded, "I heard your running commentary during Caroline's speech."

"I was restraining myself."

"I don't doubt it, Bones."

"I dropped the restraint when I saw you were alive after all."

"I remember that," he rubbed his jaw where she had hit him and they shared a smile.

"Then can you understand my reluctance to jeopardize our already-solid relationship for one that is tenuous and unsure at best?"

"Yes and no," he took her hands into his own again, reveling in the softness of her skin against his own.

"That is not a valid answer," she pointed out.

"Yes," he said," I understand and appreciate why you would be reluctant. I really do get that, Bones, and it would have shocked me if you had said 'yes' right away and melted into my arms. That's not you and I know that full well.

"However," he halted her before she could respond, "You've also just admitted to me that I am the most important person in your life. And while I get that you don't want to take the risk, I think that _given_ our strong relationship and _given_ our history together through all sorts of different situations that have tested us and made us stronger: the rewards far outweigh the risks."

"I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't."

She fell silent and they sat side-by-side for several minutes.

He was relieved to see that she seemed calmer after all of the tears had come out. They had never talked about it after she had barged into his bathroom and reamed him out for not breaking protocol and contacting her to make sure she knew he was still alive. No doubt she hadn't talked to anyone about it and had been holding it in all these months until she couldn't hold it any longer. It helped him understand what she had gone through and he admired her all the more for it.

"So how would this play out?" she asked finally.

"Come again?"

"If we were to embark on a deeper relationship and begin-" she groped for a word.

"Dating," he supplied.

"Yes," she nodded her head, "Dating, what would that encompass?"

"Well I suppose it would mean we'd start out with a date," he smiled, glad that she was at least _thinking_ about embracing the idea.

"And what would constitute a date?" she wanted to know next.

"There's no set definition," he explained, "We'd just, you know, do something together."

"A prearranged meeting then?" she inquired, "For which I suppose each party would attempt to dress in order to best seduce the other?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, holding up both hands, "Stop the love train right there."

"What?"

"Bones, the purpose of dating is not to seduce each other," he shook his head, "It's to get to know one another better."

"We already know each other," she protested.

"Oh really?" he challenged, "How many brothers and sisters do I have?"

"I know of at least one brother," she said slowly, "However I'm not sure if you mentioned that you had any more."

"We're Catholic, Bones."

"I don't know what that means."

"Means there are more than just two of us."

"Why?"

"Because it does, Bones," he said, exasperated, "But that's beside the point. The point is that there are still things about each other that we don't know."

"I know what you look like naked," she smirked.

"Yeah, well one of these days the feeling will be mutual," he shot back.

"So there will be a physical aspect to our new relationship?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," he smiled.

"Good," she nodded, "I wasn't sure how far your Puritan values extended."

"I have a kid out of wedlock, Bones," he pointed out.

"I suppose you do," she considered that fact, "So, how do we progress, then?"

He shrugged, "It's not like some science experiment and a controlled environment, Bones. We'll just start with a few dates and see where it goes from there. In the meantime, I get to do this," he reached over and kissed her on the lips firmly, "Anytime I want."

"Does that privilege extend both ways?" she asked coyly.

He nodded and she once again closed the gap between them and initiated a kiss.

For the second time in under twenty-four hours, Booth felt himself become lost in the experience. Tongues collided, hands roved as each of their bodies responded to what was taking place between them.

"I believe," she said when they came up for air, "That I could adapt very well to this new arrangement."

"Is that a yes, Bones?" he teased, pulling her onto his lap.

"Yes," she nodded, "It is. So what comes next?"

"Well," he traced her face with his finger, "Like I said before, the first thing we should do is go out on a date. We could get dinner together and then go dancing or go to the movies- whatever you're up for."

"I doubt that we could find a movie that we are both interested in," she frowned, "So I supposed that leaves dancing."

"It doesn't have to be if you do want," he shrugged, "That was just an example."

"No," she said, "I think I would enjoying dancing with you, Booth. So will you make the arrangements?"

"That is the traditional way," he caught the look in her eye, "Though I don't have to if you would rather."

She pondered the idea for a moment, then shook her head, "No. You would enjoy making the arrangements and it is only fair for me to accede to your wishes as well, so you go ahead."

"Thanks, Bones," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

She hopped off of his lap lightly and turned to face him, "I hope you won't find me rude, but I do have some tasks that I was hoping to accomplish today."

"No problem at all, Bones," he grinned, standing up beside her, "I told Parker I would stop by later today anyway, so I should probably get going myself."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm not sure what to do next," she admitted shyly.

"Here," he took her hand, "Walk me to the door and see me off."

She nodded and they walked to the door hand-in-hand, lingering once they got there.

"Do you have anything planned for tomorrow night?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Good," he smiled, "Then will you go on a date with me tomorrow night, Temperance Brennan?"

"I would be honored, Seeley Booth."

He beamed, "Thanks, Bones. Really. I'll see you at six, then?"

"That sounds satisfactory to me," she replied with a beaming smile of her own.

"See you tomorrow," he opened the door and turned to leave.

"Good bye," she whispered.

He turned back to her, gave her a kiss that left her in no doubt of his feelings for her, and left.


	6. Chapter 6

Brennan spent the rest of the late morning and early afternoon cleaning her apartment from top to bottom.

After four scrubbed floors, three vacuumed carpets, two loads of laundry, and one sparkling clean bathroom, she was done. Settling down on her couch she made the call she'd been putting off all day.

"Hey, Sweetie, how's your weekend going?" Angela's voice was as chipper as always.

"Fine," she was unsure how much she wished to divulge to the artist over the phone- or at all, for that matter, "I have a date tomorrow night."

"Oooh!" Brennan held the phone away from her ear until the squealing stopped, "Where'd you meet him? Is it anyone I know? Is he hot? You know what, never mind. You can tell me all the juicy details when I get there."

Brennan nodded, "Good. You can help me select an appropriate costume."

"Outfit," Angela corrected her without thinking, "And from your closet, Sweetie? No way! We are going out for dinner and then shopping. No arguments!"

Brennan sighed but agreed and they hung up.

An hour later she was beginning to regret the decision.

"So," Angela said as soon as their entrées arrived, "Who is this mystery guy?"

"I'm not comfortable disclosing his identity right now," Brennan said, picking her words carefully.

"Is he a secret agent or something?" the artist lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Or can't you tell me that either?"

"I can't," Brennan said simply, "And besides, it's not important."

"Well, is he hot?"

"He's well put-together, yes."

"Bren, cars are well put-together," Angela sighed long-sufferingly, "Men are hot. Or cute. Which one is he?"

"What is the quantifiable definition of hot?"

"Okay, see that," Angela stabbed her fork in Brennan's direction, "You can't be doing tomorrow."

"What?" she tried to ignore how many grammatical mistakes were in the accusation and focus on her friend's point.

"'Quantifiable.' You can't use words like that on a date. You can't go all- all Squint on him."

"Ange," Brennan laughed, "If he cannot accept me for who I am _or_ if I have to dumb down my vocabulary for him than he is obviously not worth my time."

"Is he another scientist or genius-type like you?" Angela wanted to know.

Brennan shook her head, her mouth full of food.

"Then do him a favor and don't be Squintish on your first date."

"But-"

Angela held up her hand, "Just trust me on this, Honey, okay?"

"Alright," Brennan mumbled through her food.

"Now, can you at least tell me what you two lovebirds are doing?"

"Dinner and dancing I believe."

"Good," Angela processed the information, "You can't go wrong with dancing. Will it be at a club or are we talking a ballroom setting?"

"I'm not certain. Does it matter?"

"Not really. We'll just buy a dress for each and you can call him up and ask him later."

This made good sense to Brennan and they spent the rest of their dinner planning which stores to go to and in what order. Angela assured her that it was always best to have a plan of attack when shopping for a specific type of outfit. In the end, they found three dresses that the scientist liked and she arrived home later than she had planned, but satisfied with the evening's accomplishments.

She was about to put up her feet when her cell phone rang.

"Brennan," she answered.

"Hey, Bones," the voice on the other end replied, "How was the rest of your day?"

"Extremely productive," she said proudly, pouring herself a glass of water and relaxing on her bed, "How was your day with Parker?"

"Great, Bones," she could hear the grin in his voice, "We went to the park, threw the football around. You know? Just hanging out."

"Is that what you normally do?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he said, "When it's nice out. Other times we head to the movies or take in a ballgame or just stay at home and play video games."

"Oh," she suddenly realized that this was an area of Booth's life that she was not as familiar with as she thought, "So where are we going?"

"A guy can't have a secret?" he joked.

"It would be helpful so that I know which cos-outfit I should wear," she explained.

"Oh, well then we are going to L'Auberge Chez Francois," Booth supplied, "A little French place over the Virginia border. Our reservation is for seven o'clock, so I'll be at your place by six. There's a Jazz club nearby if you'd like to go dancing there."

"I would like that a lot, Booth," she said gratefully, "I appreciate Jazz music."

"I know, Bones."

"How?"

"You CD collection."

"Oh."

"So whatcha' doing right now?" Booth asked after a lapse in the conversation.

"Relaxing in bed."

"Am I keeping you up?"

"Not particularly."

"Good," she heard him stifle a yawn.

"Perhaps we should both get some sleep," she suggested, "We could be up quite late tomorrow."

"Gonna have your way with me, Bones?"

She blushed furiously, glad that he couldn't see her, "I- I didn't mean it that way at all, Booth!"

"I know, Bones," he laughed gently, "I was just teasing you."

"Okay."

"G'night, Bones. Sweet dreams."

"Good night, Booth."

She waited a few extra seconds before hanging up the phone, wondering if he would repeat the sentiment from the other night.

Sure enough, just as he had done the night before, she heard him whisper, "I love you, Bones."

Tonight, however, it brought a strange comfort to her and she drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

           Booth let the hot water of his shower flow over him and calm him down. He had been anticipating what would take place in an hour from the moment Bones had agreed to go out with him.

It had distracted him yesterday when he had been playing football with Parker. It had annoyed him last night when he couldn't fall asleep. It had downright infuriated him this morning as he sat fidgeting through mass, unable to think of anything but the taste that her lips had left on his every time they'd kissed. Afterwards he had gone on a three-mile run through his neighborhood, followed by a half an hour of weight-lifting. He still felt like he had done five shots of espresso, but at least he had tried.

The phone rang and he raced out of the bathroom naked to answer it.

"Hello," he stood breathless, glad that his blinds were covering the windows.

It was Hodgins, wanting to know whether or not Booth wanted in on the Jeffersonian Fantasy Football league this year. Booth agreed and Hodgins gave him the date and time for the Draft night party that he would be hosting at the mansion. Booth thanked him and got off of the phone as quickly as he could.

Thirty minutes later he was dressed in a black suit with a white dress shirt, a thin black tie, and his 'Cocky' belt-buckle for courage. He would need all of the confidence he could get tonight, he thought as he drove to her apartment. "Hot Blooded" came blasting through the radio and he felt a small smile creep across his face.

When he reached her apartment, he paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

"Hello, Booth," she greeted him warmly. Her smile was wide and warm and set his remaining nerves at ease, "Come in."

"Thanks, Bones," he presented her with a bouquet of daffodils and entered the apartment.

"These are beautiful, Booth," she inhaled their scent deeply.

"Not a beautiful as you," he reached out and took her hand and planted a courtly kiss on her knuckles.

"Thank you," she blushed, escaping his grasp and setting about finding a vase for the flowers.

Booth watched her move effortlessly in her high heels and long, blue dress across the apartment. Her hair was done up the same way it had been when she had attended the Jeffersonian donors' banquet four years ago. That night he had been unsure how to compliment his brand-new partner. He hoped he would fare better tonight.

"All set?" she came up behind him, having found a home for the flowers in a vase on her dining room table.

"I'm ready when you are."

She nodded and allowed him to help her into her jacket. He offered her his elbow and they walked arm-in-arm into the elevator and again out to the parking lot.

"You look beautiful, tonight, Bones," he said as he helped her into the passenger's seat of his SUV.

"You look very handsome yourself," she replied with a smile.

He swore his heart skipped a beat and he leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before closing her door and moving around to the driver's side.

The drive itself was like their drives always were. They teased, they talked, but mostly they bickered back and forth over the most inane topics.

"I still can't believe you like rap music," Booth shook his head as they pulled into the parking lot of L'Auberge Chez Francois.

"As I said before Booth the tribal-"

He cut her off with a hand wave, "Yeah, yeah. Just do me a favor and don't talk about tribal anything at the Jazz club later, okay?"

She seemed to actually take his advice under consideration, "Okay."

"Good," he smiled, "And here we are."

He was pleasantly surprised that she waited for him to come around and open her door for her and even more pleased when she slipped her arm around his waist and smiled up at him.

They walked past the small gardens and up the front of the building. Booth thought it looked like a building straight out of Shakespeare's England and was impressed with the comfortable-looking dining room that awaited them inside.

Within minutes they were seated and provided menus to pore over.

Booth looked over his menu and was thankful for whoever had given English definitions for all of the French dishes. He snuck a peek at his partner, who seemed thoroughly engrossed in the menu.

"Know what you want?" he asked.

"I think so," she answered, looking up, "Do you?"

He shook his head and lowered his voice, "No. And to be honest I have no clue how to pronounce anything."

"Have you had French food before?" she asked, thankfully keeping her voice lowered as well.

"No."

"Then why choose a French restaurant?" she inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"Because of the song," he muttered.

"What song?"

"The one we danced to, 'Wonderful World' by Sam Cooke," he said ruefully, "Turns out I really don't remember any of the French I took."

She smiled, though not in a patronizing way and laid a tentative hand on his arm, "Do you trust me?"

"Huh?"

"Do you trust me, Booth?"

Their eyes met and he saw that she had a solution and was trying to help.

"Sure, Bones," he answered softly, laying his other hand on top of hers, "I'd trust you with my life."

"Do you have any food allergies?"

"Not that I know of."

"Alright," she closed the menu and looked up just as the waiter came back for their order, "To start, we'll have Le croustillant au Roquefort et poires d'Anjou confites à la cannelle et au Calvados," she spoke in fluent French, "For our entrée, Le chateaubriand de L'Auberge, sa bouquetière de légumes, béarnaise et sauce Perigueux pour deux. And two glasses of whichever wine is recommended by the chef."

The waiter thanked them and left.

"Do I get to know what you just did now, or are you going to make me wait?" Booth wanted to know once the waiter was out of earshot.

Bones smiled coyly at him, "I'm not certain."

"Bones," he said warningly, "You didn't order some fancy salad or something did you?"

She shook her head, smiling, enjoying her moment of power, "Nothing of the sort."

"So what's the appetizer?"

"Try it first, and then I'll tell you," she challenged him.

"What, is there some secret ingredient like duck liver or something?"

She laughed, "Not that I know of. But it's always best when tasting new food to not know all of the ingredients, so that you will be unprejudiced."

"Unprejudiced, eh?"

"Yes."

"What is it with women and that book anyway?" Booth wanted to know.

"Well," Brennan took a sip of her water, "I can't speak for others of my gender but I myself enjoy the social commentary that Austin gives of her contemporaries. Also, some of the banter between the two protagonists is priceless. I myself have borrowed from her style in writing some of the dialogue that goes on between Kathy and Andy in my books."

Booth nodded as if what she had said had all made sense to him and decided to pursue a different topic, "So Bones. Moment of truth here."

"Like Sweets' 'Truth Zone?'" she cut in, wrinkling her brow in disgust.

"No," Booth waved it off, "Not like that. Anyway, now that we are on our official first date, it's time for you to admit who Andy is really based on," he sat back in his seat, crossed his arms, and smirked at her.

"Well," she met his eyes dead on, "To be _honest_, most of Andy's romantic qualities are based on my father."

"Your father," Booth tried not to look as deflated as he felt, "Really?"

"Yes," she nodded earnestly, "Much of Andy's actions and overtures are ones that I remember my father making toward my mother. The two of them shared a deep connection and my father was an extremely sentimental man. He still is, to be honest."

"Yeah," Booth nodded, "I can see that in Max. That's good, Bones. You modeling a character after you dad."

"In part," she said, "The other part of Andy's character was based on-"

"Your appetizers," the waiter announced, setting a laden plate down in the middle of the table and placing a smaller plate before each of them, "Enjoy."

"You were saying?" Booth asked as soon as it was polite.

"You," she answered softly, "Andy possesses some of the traits that I most admire in you."

Booth smiled at her, though he didn't feel as elated as he thought he would. Instead, he felt touched that there were traits about him that she admired, and honored that she was finally comfortable enough with him to admit it. Their eyes met and he sensed she understood what her revelation meant to him.

"So," he rubbed his hands together, "Let's dig into the duck liver!"

She made a face at him and placed a portion of the food first on his plate, then on her own.

He took a small, tentative bite and was amazed to find that- whatever it was- he liked it.

"Mmm, Bones," he said through a mouthful of food, "This is good! What is it?"

"Roquefort cheese, candied Anjou pears, cinnamon, and a distilled cider topping, on top of a puff pastry."

"Cheese and pears?" he said surprised, "Tastes a lot better than I would've thought."

"And that," she said, "I why I wanted to wait to reveal the ingredients."

"Wise woman," Booth cleaned his plate and took a second helping, "So is the duck liver for dinner then?"

"No," she laughed, "No duck liver, I promise."

"I trust you, Bones," he grinned.

Soon their main dish arrived, along with the wine. Again, the waiter set a plate full of food in the middle of the table and provided them each with an empty plate.

"Now this," Booth said hungrily, "I recognize."

In between them was a large, thick, tenderloin steak with assorted veggies and some sort of sauce spread over everything.

"Thought you didn't like steak?" he questioned her.

"It's not my first preference," she admitted, "But this is very good and you, on the other hand, like steak a good bit as I recall."

"I do, Bones," he said gratefully, "But you should get what you like too."

"I did Booth," she said, reaching over to the lager plate, "I like these vegetables very much."

"If you say so," he picked up the wine in front of him and held it up, "A toast, Bones, to us. Whoever it is we are and whatever it is we're becoming."

"And to our first date," she added, "So far, so good."

They exchanged smiles, clicked their glasses together, and ate their meal largely in silence. Booth was blown away by the tenderness and flavor of the steak and he had to admit that Bones seemed to be enjoying the veggies as much as he enjoyed the meat.

"I am stuffed," he announced when he had finished, pushing back a bit from the table.

"I should think so," she laughed lightly, "That was a double portion of meat that you consumed."

"Yeah well," he shrugged, "I worked out a little bit this afternoon so I was hungry. Plus," he grinned, "Someone stole all of the veggies, so I had to fill up on _something_."

She grinned back at him, "They were very delicious too."

The waiter returned and asked if they were ready for dessert. Booth declined, stating that the food was so good they were full, and asked for the check.

"You pay next time, Bones," he answered her unvoiced protest.

She nodded, though clearly not fully comfortable with the idea.

Booth paid- thankful that he had worked a lot of overtime this past paycheck- and they set off into the night.

"And now," Booth announced when they were both in the car, "To the Jazz club."


	8. Chapter 8

Smoke hung thick in the air as they entered the second-floor Jazz club. Booth offered to find them a table while Brennan excused herself to the ladies' room.

Once inside she selected a stall and began undoing the fastenings on the lower half of her dress. At first she had been hesitant to buy the dress, but Angela had insisted and she had given into her friend. Thankful that the restroom had a full-length mirror, she exited the stall and inspected the new look before heading out to Booth.

What was once a floor-length gown was now a cocktail dress that cut off just above her knees. She smiled approvingly and placed the lower half of the dress in her purse, thankful that it in easily. She took one last look in the mirror, tucked in the loose strands of hair that had worked their way out during dinner, applied a fresh coat of lipstick, and headed out.

Booth's low whistle greeted her as she approached the corner table that he had chosen, "Nice outfit!"

"It's the same dress I had on earlier, Booth," she informed him, slipping into the circular booth beside him.

"No," he shook his head, "That might be the same fabric- but _that_ dress is way hotter than the other one."

"The bottom half of the dress is removable," she explained, "I was leery about the concept at first, but Angela assured me both dresses would look fine."

"She was right," Booth slipped off his suit jacket and leaned back, moving his right arm onto the ledge behind Brennan's back, "So you told her about us, huh?"

"No," she said, taking note of his arm placement and discovering that she was enjoying the close proximity that it brought them, "She knows I am on a date tonight but I didn't disclose who I was going with."

"Really?" Booth sounded surprised, "Why not?"

"First," she looked directly at him, "We had not discussed how much or little we were going to reveal about our new relationship status to our co-workers. Also, I didn't want her making a large fuss over things right away. She's quite prone to hyperbole, you know, and is extremely excitable concerning situations like this."

"Angela is your friend, bones," he smiled at her, "She'd want to know about this and you know it. "

"She _has_ dropped several hints in the past about what a good couple we would make," Brennan conceded, "Still, this is a very private matter to me. Honestly, the only person I would reveal something like this to is you, Booth."

"Thanks, Bones," he answered softly, "But why be so secretive? I mean, you haven't exactly been shy or private about who you've dated in the past."

"And perhaps that was one of my downfalls," she admitted, "I am trying to be more deliberate and discreet with my personal life now. Perhaps that will help preserve our relationship."

"So you're not ashamed to be here with me?"

"Of course not!"

His right hand moved from around her shoulders to trace her face, "Good, Bones. Me neither."

"Why would I be ashamed, Booth?" she searched his face for an answer.

"Well," he pulled back his arm, running his hands through his hair nervously, "I'm just a dumb ex-jock slash cop. Where you, Bones, you are not only a stunningly beautiful woman, but also a genius who had excelled as both a scientist and an author despite all of the chips that were stacked against you as a kid."

"Booth," she laid a hand on his forearm, "While I am flattered by your opion of me I certainly don't agree with your portrayal of yourself. You are a special agent in the FBI, which means that you have to have at least earned a Bachelor's degree, in addition to the military and FBI schooling that you've received. You are also one of the most intelligent people I know as far as reading a person's motivations and determining whether or not they are telling truth. For as much as I have observed you I have not come close to emulating you.

"Furthermore, in your job as a 'cop' you display courage on a daily basis by inserting yourself into situation the general public would consider highly dangerous. Any woman should feel honored to go out whit you," she smiled brightly at him, "And I do, Booth. I may not express it very well but I truly do."

"Well," Booth smiled back at her, "There's only one way I know how to react to compliments like that."

"And what might that be?"

He stood up and offered his arm, "May I have this dance, Temperance?"

"It would be my pleasure, Seeley."

They made their way into the small crowd that was already gyrating to the music. Booth wrapped an arm around her waist and clasped her hand just as she moved to do the same. They shared a nervous smile and she willed herself to relax and appreciate the band's music.

Four songs later she was completely relaxed, with her head contentedly resting on Booth's broad shoulder. They moved with a smoothness and grace that made her feel as if they had been dancing together for years instead of just tonight. Booth seemed to be enjoying himself as well and currently had his head buried in her hair.

"We should get headed back, Bones," he said after a few more songs, "Never know what tomorrow will bring."

"A wise observation," she said and allowed him to escort her back to their table to collect their things.

They were headed for the door when an older gentleman came up and touched Booth's arm, "I wanted to tell you that I enjoyed watching you and your lady-friend dance together tonight."

"Thank you," Booth said politely, looking as if he wasn't sure exactly how to respond.

"Made me think of me and my Mary," the old man continued, "We used to tear things up back in our day."

Booth smiled, "I'm sure you did."

"Now you hang onto that one, Son," the man pointed a gnarled finger at her, "As the Good Book says, 'He who finds a good wife finds a good thing.' Cherish her always and your life will be all the richer."

"I plan on that, Sir," Booth answered sincerely, planting a light kiss on her hand.

"And you," the man turned to Brennan, "Let him pamper you when he wants to. Don't be like these modern gals who have to do everything themselves," he waved his arm to the rest of the club in disgust, "Man needs two things in life: to be needed and to be shown respect. Well, I suppose there is a third thing," he winked slyly at Booth, "But that's not for polite company, now is it?"

Booth chuckled and Brennan punched his arm playfully.

"You two have a good night," the man said with a brief wave.

Before either one of them could respond, he had melted back into the crowd and neither one of them could find him again.

They walked quietly out to the SUV, each pondering the words of the mysterious old man.

"I think he thought we were a married couple," Brennan said finally when they were on their way back to DC.

"Yeah," Booth looked over at her, "You okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. You were pretty quite over there so I figured I'd ask."

"It was certainly food for thought if nothing else," she commented, still thinking about the man's advice, "Was he correct about the things a man needs?"

Booth shrugged, "Pretty much. I mean, a life where you don't feel useful and respected by at least one person would not be a happy life."

"Hmm."

"And he was definitely right with the third one," he grinned wolfishly, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Sex is important to women as well, you know," she teased him.

"Yeah well, for guys it's different," he informed her.

"That is true," she conceded, "Males do have the physical need for release-"

"And this is where I stop you from lecturing me on things of which I am well aware and don't want a refresher course on," he cut in.

"Oh," came the short reply.

"I'm not mad or anything, Bones," he assured her, "It's just not good girlfriend talk."

"Oh," she said, concerned, "Was I treating you like I would a female friend again Booth? I am trying to curb that tendency you know?"

Booth looked as if he were swallowing his laughter, though some of it managed to leak into his voice anyway, "No, Bones. I was saying that _I_ didn't want to talk about those things with _my_ girlfriend- you."

"Oh," she said for the third time in under three minutes, "So does that make you _my_ boyfriend, then?"

"That's usually how it works, Bones," he grinned.

"Alright."

They rode in silence for a while.

"What was the 'Good Book' he referred to?" Brennan asked suddenly.

"The Bible," Booth answered gently.

"So that quote is contained in the Bible?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"Proverbs I think," he said thoughtfully, "But don't quote me on that."

"Okay."

Brennan leaned her head back and closed her eyes. It was late and she was growing more fatigued by the minute.

"Go ahead and sleep if you need to," Booth commented, "I won't be offended."

She glanced out of her window. They were traveling along the Beltway at a snail's pace with no end of the jam in sight.

"I could put the siren on if you really wanted to get home," he offered.

"No," she yawned, shaking her head, "That wouldn't be ethical and it's unnecessary at any rate. Though I do think I will try and sleep if you don't mind."

"I don't. And you can use my jacket for a blanket if you want."

"Thank you, Booth," she said sleepily, reaching into the backseat for his discarded suit jacket, "This was a good first date."

"Get enough sleep for both of us, okay Bones?" he teased.

She nodded and was asleep within minutes, comforted by the scent of Booth that surrounded her.


	9. Chapter 9

Booth looked over at his sleeping Bones and smiled. In the midst of the chaos of the traffic that surrounded them, there she was, sound asleep and as calm as could be.

As he inched the SUV through the heavy traffic he thought about the night's events. The meal had been delicious and he was still full from all of the steak he'd eaten. He was glad that he had trusted Bones to order because he wasn't sure he would have chosen that dish on his own. He also had found her comments about who Andy was really based on to be insightful and was glad that she had based at least some of the fictional man's traits off of himself- though he had been genuinely surprised to discover the Max connection.

His favorite part of the night had been the Jazz club. Not only had Bones revealed some of the things that she admired in him, _and_ told him that she was honored to be his date, _and _turned her beautiful gown into a super hot cocktail dress, but he had also gotten to hold her for close to an hour as they danced. By the end of the night they had been fully pressed up against each other and he had felt as if they were moving as one.

The old man had been a trip too. He had prayed fervently that Bones wouldn't correct the man about them being a married couple, or tear apart the heartfelt advice piece by piece right there in the club and she hadn't. If anything she seemed to take his advice seriously and had not said one negative thing about the experience.

Booth had tried hard not to laugh when she misunderstood him and marveled again that someone so intelligent in many areas was so socially inept. Not that he held it against her- it was the opposite really. He found her social awkwardness endearing when it wasn't frustrating. He'd always thought that if she were as adept socially as she was intellectually, he would definitely be out of his weight class. As it was, they proved a good balance for one another. He helped her navigate through the social mores that she found difficult and she kept him honest with her straightforward questions and opinions. Guaranteed if Bones wasn't for something she wouldn't beat around the bush about it and he wouldn't have her any other way.

And now it was official: they were a _couple_. Not just partners or close friends or part of some 'surrogate relationship' nonsense that he never fully understood to begin with, but an honest to goodness couple. Now he really could call her _his_ Bones. No longer would they have to stand in awkward silence whenever anyone thought they were looked like a nice couple or pull away when a moment became filled with sexual tension.

She was his girlfriend and he was her boyfriend and for once everything felt right in his world.

After what seemed like endless hours but was really only an hour and forty-five minutes, the traffic finally thinned out and he was able to get off of the Beltway. Still, it was one-thirty in the morning before he pulled up to her apartment complex and parked the SUV in her "Visitor" spot.

"Are we home?" she asked groggily, stretching in her seat.

"Just pulled in," he said softly, "I'll walk you up."

"What time is it?"

"A little after one-thirty."

She groaned, "I hate traffic on the Beltway."

"You and me both," he moved out the door and was opening hers for her before she had a chance to stagger out on her own.

"Thank you," she leaned into him and let him ease her out of the SUV.

She wobbled a bit on her high heels and he put his arm around her waist to support her.

"Com'on, Bones," he said gently, "Let's get you to bed."

They got up to her apartment and she fumbled a few times with the key before she finally got it in and the door unlocked. Slightly more alert from the walk up, Bones slipped of her heels immediately and began puttering around the apartment.

"Would you like something to drink?" she offered him, moving into the kitchen.

"Water would be good, Bones," he replied, "And would you mind if I used your bathroom?"

"No," came the tired reply, "I don't mind."

He thanked her and made his way back to the bathroom.

When he came out the apartment was silent and she was nowhere to be seen.

"Bones," he called softly, peering around the living room and deciding that she wasn't there.

A glass of water stood poured on the kitchen counter for him, but she wasn't in the kitchen either. His blood pressure started to rise and he turned back up the small hall toward her bedroom, hoping that maybe she had slipped past without him hearing her.

"Bones," he called softly again, "You back here?"

No response.

The bedroom door was halfway opened and he pushed it the rest of the way cautiously. He sighed in relief and started breathing again when he saw her. She was curled up on her side on top of the covers, fast asleep and covered with his suit jacket.

"Booth," she muttered.

"Hey, Bones," he knelt down beside the bed and stroked her hair back from her face, "I'm gonna take off now. You want me to do anything before I leave?"

"Don't leave," she replied sleepily.

"Bones, it's late," he soothed, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"It's late," she repeated, "You shouldn't be driving."

"Aw, I'll be okay, Bones."

"Stay," she insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she motioned to the bed beside her, "Plenty of room for both of us."

He chuckled at the near-proposition but realized that, even half-asleep, she was ever the practical one.

"Okay, Bones," he said with a soft smile, "Let me turn off your lights and lock up and I'll be right back."

"Okay, Booth," she smiled sleepily at him.

He left, performed all the necessary tasks, drank the water that she had left for him, and returned to the bedroom.

His jaw dropped. She was standing with her back toward him- topless and struggling to get into her pajamas.

He cleared his throat. She jumped a little, then turned around to face him.

"Need some help?" he asked with a grin.

"If you don't mind," she blushed deeply, "Apparently my gross motor coordination is inhibited by my fatigue."

"And yet," he crossed the room and began to help her get dressed, "You're still awake enough to use big, fancy words."

They finished getting her top on and he kissed the nape of her neck before gently turning her back to the bed. He pulled back the covers, she climbed inside, and he tucked her in.

He turned off the bedroom light before moving to the empty side of the bed and stripping down to his boxers. Nervousness crept over him and he quickly moved under the covers before he could over-think the situation. His brain was too tired for it anyway.

He felt rather than saw her shift to face him.

"I told you we would be out late," she told him.

"That you did, Bones. That you did."

"I had a good time, though."

"I did too."

"Do you think we make a good couple?" she wanted to know.

"I think we make a great couple."

The room fell silent and he thought maybe she'd fallen asleep.

"Good night, Booth," she said all of a sudden.

"Good night, Bones," he reached out and took her hand under the covers and gave it a gentle squeeze, then released it.

They each turned over in the bed and settled down to sleep.

He waited until she was still and her breathing evened out before whispering into the dark, "I love you, Bones."


	10. Chapter 10

Brennan woke up slowly, knowing instinctively that something was different this morning and trying to ascertain exactly what it was. She opened first one eye, then the other. Everything in her room looked the same from what she could see. She rolled over on her other side and stopped her search short. Booth was in her bed.

She frantically searched her memories for an explanation. She knew they had been very late getting home from the club and that she had fallen asleep on the drive home. She vaguely recalled being helped up to her apartment, fumbling with her keys, and offering Booth a drink when they had finally gotten inside. He had excused himself and she had poured the water and then gone back to her room to get ready for bed.

She was fairly certain that she had fallen asleep before finishing the task and recalled Booth waking her up to tell her goodbye. She searched deeper into her memory and remembered that she had insisted Booth stay the night, telling him that there was room in her bed for two. At that recollection she could feel her face warming and was thankful that Booth was still asleep.

Also, if her memory was correct, he had helped her get into the pajamas that she was now in before climbing in bed next to her. She remembered their brief conversation and that they had said good night and then turned over to sleep. Her last memory of the night was very faint. Just before she fell asleep she had heard Booth whisper "I love you, Bones" just as he had the previous three nights.

The first night he had said it she had experience extreme inner turmoil for the remainder of the night, even though she knew he had not meant for her to hear him. The second time, she had deliberately gone silent after they said goodbye on the phone, waiting to see if he would repeat the sentiment. He had and she had felt an odd mix of nerves and pleasure. Last night, she had not been expecting it, but when it came, the words washed over her and warmed a place in her heart that she was just beginning to acknowledge existed.

No longer did she doubt that they were an impulsive thought of his that had been borne of an emotionally and physically stimulating encounter, however she was still not exactly certain how or what to do with the knowledge of his love. Nor was she entirely sure how she would respond should he ever knowingly tell her.

For now, she savored the warm feeling that they left her with, deciding perhaps it was best that he did not know as it allowed her to sift through her feelings first without being pressured to respond.

"Good morning, Beautiful," Booth's sleep-laden voice rasped with a smile.

"Hi," she wasn't sure how to proceed as all of the other times she had woken up to men in her bed they had spent the first moments of the morning reminiscing about the sexual encounter they had shared the night before.

"Did you get a good sleep?" he wanted to know, "You looked exhausted last night."

She nodded, "Yes. I slept very well, thank you. And thank you for seeing to me last night."

"No problem, Bones," he grinned at her, making her heart feel as if it was beating improperly, "I know I always like help when my gross motor coordination is inhibited."

"You," she propped herself up on one elbow, "Are mocking me, Seeley Booth."

"Who me?" he asked in mock horror, "Never."

"Your tone says otherwise," she pointed out, "And you are desperately trying to hold back that charm smile of yours. Which I still maintain has no sway over me."

"Oh really, Bones?" he leered, giving up on his restraint and pasting the ridiculous grin on his face.

"Really."

He held the grin and slowly inched toward her with his entire body.

"My dear," he made his voice husky and she could feel her body reacting to it, "You have no idea how much sway I can have."

"Indeed?" she raised an eyebrow, their faces now only inches apart.

"Oh yeah," he poured on the charm again and moved his hand under the covers to encircle her waist and pull her close, "You see, Bones, I can make you feel things that you never thought possible," she felt his breath on her lips, "And this smile can bring you completely under my spell."

"And what spell might that be?"

"This one."

Brennan felt more than saw him close the gap between them and once again their lips collided. This time, however, there was a lack of fierceness in their exchanged passion. No longer were they relieving built-up tension or initiating a relationship that had been years in the making. Instead, the passion was steady, but controlled.

Hands roved and she was pleasantly surprised that he was clothed only in his boxers. The smoothness of his back was tantalizing as were his extremely toned pectoral muscles. She was vaguely aware of him removing her own shirt and reveled in his gasp of pleasure when he found what he was seeking.

And then the phone rang.

"Booth," she gasped pulling back slightly, "The phone is ringing."

"Let 'em leave a message," he said, panting, "You can get back to them later."

"It's your phone, Booth," she pointed out, "Most likely it is work-related."

He groaned and attempted to get his breathing under control.

"Fine," he lifted her gently off of him, "But we _will_ continue this."

She nodded, giving him one last kiss before releasing him.

He rummaged through his clothes until he found the phone, "Booth."

There was a pause as the voice on the other line responded.

"Yeah, Charlie, what's going on?" he looked at her apologetically as the man on the other side rambled on with no clue as to what he had just interrupted.

"Where?" Booth wanted to know next.

Brennan moved off of the bed and began selecting her wardrobe for the day, eliciting a frown from Booth when she slipped her pajama top back on.

"Uh, huh," Booth responded again, "Yeah, Charlie I got it," another pause, "I'll contact the Jeffersonian, you just make sure nobody touches anything."

She heard the query in Charlie's voice and Booth laughed, "Yeah, Dr. Brennan wouldn't be happy at all. Well look, I've gotta go so I'll get back to you when we've got a clearer picture of what's going on okay?"

The two rang off.

"I've gotta call Cam," Booth told her.

"A body was found?"

"Yup," he nodded, "Down in some Podunk town in Maryland."

"I don't know what that means."

"Place is barely even on the map it's that small," he elucidated.

"Oh."

"Anyway, I've gotta call Cam and let her know."

"What are you going to tell her?" she hoped he realized that she was not referring to the case.

He grinned, "Don't worry, Bones, I won't tell her anything you don't want me to," she nodded, satisfied, "And I'll even make up an excuse for you being late if you want."

She glanced at the clock. Even in good traffic she would never make it in the fifteen minutes that remained for her to get to work on time.

"I wouldn't mind in the least," she said.

"Okay," Booth nodded, "But I _do_ want a rain check for where we left off."

"I believe I can arrange that."

She gathered up the clothes that she had selected and moved into the bathroom for a quick shower, leaving Booth to take care of things with Cam.

As the water flowed over her she began wondering what would have occurred had the phone not interrupted them. They had clearly been on their way to eliminating every line that had been drawn in the past. The experience had been exhilarating and frightening as she weighed the implications of she and Booth becoming intimate.

As much as his speech the other night had encouraged her to move forward with their relationship, she was still unsure as to how much would change once they crossed that line. Their date last night had possibly been the most fun that she had ever had in her dating experience. He had been a wonderful intellectual companion and she had enjoyed dancing together with him as well.

She was no prude when it came to sexual matters, but it continued to nag at the back of her mind that, while she could eventually let the memories of however many dates they went on fade away and become relatively painless, she would not be able to do the same once they slept together. Even the moments that they had already shared would be with her for weeks, months, possibly even years to come.

She shook off the doubt and completed her shower, determining that now was not the time to contemplate this weighty issue. Somewhere in Maryland a person had lost their life and they deserved one-hundred percent of her focus and energy until she discovered the nature of their death and- if necessary- helped Booth bring the killer to justice.

"Bones!" she heard Booth call from outside the bathroom door.

"Yes?" she opened it to him, deciding that he wouldn't mind the fact that she didn't have her pants on yet.

"I think you grabbed my clothes along with yours," he said, noticing her unclad legs and winking in approval.

"Oh yes," she answered, "I hung them up to steam."

"What?"

"Well, they were wrinkled from being left on a heap on the floor for an extended period of time so I hung them up in here," he still looked befuddled so she went on, "The steam releases the wrinkles in the fabric and makes them appear smooth. As you did not bring a change of clothes with you, I determined that you would not wish to wear a wrinkled suit to wherever it is we are going next."

"Oh, gee thanks, Bones," he inspected the suit and seemed surprised that she was correct, "Look, I told Cam that I was picking you up and we were going to grab breakfast before we checked in at the Lab."

"So breakfast will be coffee and whatever confectionary treat you decide to pick up on our way there?"

"Pretty much, though most people call them donuts, you know?" he smiled teasingly.

"So I've heard," she applied her makeup and turned to him, "Would you like to take a shower before we leave?"

"I probably should," he nodded, "Seeing how things were heating up a bit back there."

She blushed, but allowed him to kiss her before exiting the bathroom.

Within ten minutes they were both ready and on their way to the Jeffersonian to pick up her equipment before heading to the crime scene.


	11. Chapter 11

Booth glanced over at Bones, who had a silly grin plastered on her face and seemed to be deep in thought, "So what are we going to say when we get there?"

"What?" she snapped out of her reverie and looked over as if seeing him for the first time.

"When we get to the Jeffersonian," he motioned out the window, "How did you want to handle things once we get there?"

"Well," she said slowly, "No doubt Angela will accost me on sight and demand to know how the date went. I could lie to her and tell her it was a failure-"

"Which she'll never buy because you're so happy," he interjected.

"Really," Bones looked at him quizzically, "I didn't realize that."

"You've been grinning like a schoolgirl since we left your apartment," he informed her. "Not that I mind or anything, Bones," he grinned, "But we both know that you don't do that unless you are deliriously happy."

"And if you are able to determine that much than Angela will certainly know," she said.

"Yup," he nodded, "So you might as well not lie to her."

"Do you think I should tell her who I went out with, then?"

"That's up to you, Bones," he shrugged, "But I'd at least tell her that you had a great time. I'll let you take point on this one, though."

"Take point?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, take point," he repeated, "That means once we get into the lab, you call the shots and I'll follow along."

"I hate sports metaphors," she grumbled under her breath.

Booth pulled into his usual parking space and turned off the engine, "Well, Bones, it's show time."

"Indeed," she said, getting out of the SUV.

They walked into the Jeffersonian together just like they had a million times before. Booth waved to the security officer, who smiled and motioned them through. Immediately, Bones took off for her office and he decided to give her some space.

"Hey, G-man," Hodgins waved him over, "How was your weekend?"

Booth shrugged, "Pretty good. How about you?"

"It was great! I got this great new-" Booth tuned out as the bug man went into some techno-babble speech about a new gizmo he had gotten that no doubt cost more than Booth made in a year.

He watched as the squints around him went about their duties like they did every other time he was here. It was like watching some sort of weird dance as they all moved around the room at their various tasks. Sometimes he still wondered where an intuitive guy like him was supposed to fit into all of their cold, hard, logic, but he had been doing it for so long now he didn't question exactly how things worked; he just appreciated that they did.

He remembered back to a time when he had felt about as comfortable here as a Klingon at a Star Wars convention. It seemed like he and Bones had done nothing but bump heads at every corner in those early days. But slowly they had learned to work together and appreciate what they each brought to the crime solving process. He still didn't understand how her mind worked and she still got frustrated when he was able to intuit things that had never occurred to her. But they had stuck with it all these years and had made it work.

Deciding that it was time to rescue his girlfriend from Angela, he excused himself to Hodgins and set off for her office. Sure enough, Angela was pelting her with questions, while Bones moved around collecting her gear.

"Booth," Angela smiled slyly, "Just the person I was looking for."

"Uh-huh," he looked at her doubtfully, plopping down on the couch.

"Our little Brennan here went out on what appears to have been a great date last night," Angela said, "But she refuses to tell me who she went with."

"As I said before Angela," Bones turned to face the artist, shoving the last of her things into her bag, "I wish to be more discreet about my personal relationships."

"You went on a date last night, Bones?" he teased, deciding to lighten the pressure on her and hoping that she would catch on.

She did, "As amazing as that might seem to you, Booth," she smirked at him, "Yes I did."

"I bet he was ugly," Booth said in a stage whisper to Angela.

"Maybe," Angela didn't seem convinced, "Was he ugly, Bren?"

"As a matter of fact, he was not," Bones stated, "He was quite good looking actually."

"A looker then?" Angela prodded.

"I'm not sure what that means, though he was quite visually stimulating."

"A high compliment," Booth said drily.

"Well he was," Bones was close to pouting and he could tell they needed to wrap up the conversation and get out of her before she became truly annoyed.

"Fascinating as it is to discuss your love life, Bones," he stood up and began shouldering her bags, "We've got a date with a corpse down in Maryland."

"Alright," Angela threw up her arms, "Fine. Go do your super sleuth thing you two. But Sweetie," she looked pointedly at Bones, "I would like to know his name eventually."

"She'll send you an invite to the wedding," Booth shot back as he took his partner by the shoulders and steered her out of the room.

They gave hurried goodbyes to Cam and Hodgins, and Bones assured Cam that she would keep her apprised of the situation as it unfolded.

After loading her gear into the back of the SUV they both took their seats and Booth braced himself for a verbal explosion. He didn't have to wait long.

"Is there something I should be aware of, _Seeley Booth_?" she spat.

"I sleep in the buff?" he teased, keeping his tone light and hoping that would calm her down.

"No," she shot him a disgusted look and he pulled out of the parking space and into traffic before she decided to stomp out on him.

"What, Bones?"

"Oh," she seethed, "Perhaps it was your comment. 'She'll send you an invite to the wedding.'"

"That," he informed her, "Was me deflecting her attention away from you. And it worked just fine I might add."

"We are _not_ getting married, Booth," she said hotly.

"I never said we were, Bones."

"You implied it."

"No," he corrected, "I implied that you and your pretend date that you were hiding from Angela were. Besides, she knows you better than that."

"I'm still not amused," she huffed, crossing her arms and staring out the passenger-side window.

Booth chuckled, "Bones, we've been on one date. Did you really think I was proposing?"

"I don't know," she muttered first, then looked at him, "I suppose not."

"You are the one who's not telling Angela the truth," he pointed out, "You know she can be like a pit bull when it comes to ferreting out the truth."

"I know," she admitted, "But it's not that simple, Booth."

"How so?"

Bones took a deep breath and sighed, "If I continue to hide your identity from Angela, yes, she will prod me and plead with me to do so, all of the time reveling in the mystery of the scenario. She will spend endless hours researching my activities and whereabouts and- if I am successful- conclude that you are nothing but a figment of my imagination meant to keep her from pestering me to 'get out' more often.

"If, however, I reveal you as my 'mystery date' not only will she squeal at very high volumes for an incalculable amount of time, she will also become impossible. She will wish to know every detail of our engagements as well as our plans for sexual intercourse. No doubt she will also wish to explore my feelings on the topic and as I am unable to determine them for myself at this point in time I will not know how to answer her."

"So you don't want to tell her because you aren't sure how you feel about the whole thing yourself?" he asked gently.

"I believe I just said that, yes."

"Maybe she can help you sort through things," he suggested.

"No," she shook her head, "Right now I simply wish to be able to sort out my feelings by myself."

"I'm here too if you need me," he offered.

She nodded, "I know, Booth. Thank you."

"How are you feeling right now?"

"A bit euphoric," she admitted, blushing slightly, "The last forty-eight hours have been incredibly pleasurable and I have truly enjoyed your company."

"So I'm intellectually and physically stimulating enough?" he teased, remembering her double-dating fiasco.

"Quite so," she smiled back at him.

He moved his free hand onto her thigh and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"Any other feelings, Bones?" he wanted her to know he cared about her.

"Excitement I suppose," she smiled, covering his hand with her own.

They sat silent for several minutes, Booth concentrating on driving and Bones lost in her thoughts again, though still holding onto his hand.

"Trepidation," she said suddenly as they pulled into a diner for lunch.

"What?" Booth looked over at her, turning off the car.

"I feel a vast amount of trepidation when it comes to our dating relationship," the words came out so quickly as if she was rushing through a confession, "Right now we are good partners and good friends. We have shared an incredible date and obviously take great pleasure in each other's company. There is a physical attraction that is undeniable, however, I question if all of that will fade away once we-" she stopped, unable to continue.

"Make love?" he finished for her.

She nodded, then shook her head in frustration, "This is ridiculous, I know."

"Hey," he called softly, tilting her chin up to face him, "I'm nervous too you know?"

"You are?" she asked meekly.

"Yeah, Bones," he nodded, letting her read the truth in his eyes, "I am. I don't want to mess things up between us anymore than you do."

She nodded, releasing a sigh. He smiled and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"Let's get some food, huh Bones?" he cocked his head toward the diner.

Her stomach growled in response and they laughed, heading into the diner hand in hand.


	12. Chapter 12

A soft bell rang, announcing their entrance into the diner and Brennan took the opportunity to survey their surroundings. In many respects, this diner mirrored their own Royal Diner back in DC. It was small, yet comfortable and the smell was virtually identical. Like their own diner, this one had reasonably priced food that was, by and large, highly caloric, yet satisfyingly good.

They selected a table toward the back corner and sat down side by side instead of across from one another as they did at home. Their hands did not separate until after the waitress brought them the menus and after that Booth positioned himself in such a way that their patellae were in constant contact.

After surveying the menu briefly, she ordered soup and a salad, while Booth selected a hamburger with a double portion of fries. She teased him about the number of calories he intended to consume and he countered that he knew that she would pick at his fries and therefore had ordered enough for the both of them. She couldn't come up with a suitable response and so chose not to say anything at all.

For the next fifteen minutes they engaged in, as near as Brennan could tell, highly flirtatious behavior. It began when Booth surreptitiously pulled one end off of his straw wrapper, placed the now-uncovered end of the straw in his mouth, and blew the remaining wrapper in her direction. It became entangled in her hair.

"You know," she scowled at him, "That was rather juvenile."

He grinned at her and picked the wrapper out of her hair, "Maybe, but it was fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah," he smoothed the displaced hair back and traced her mandible with his forefinger, "Fun, Bones."

"Well perhaps," she purred softly, gaining his full attention with the pitch of her voice, "I consider this fun."

He jumped as she let the tiny sliver of ice that she had kept hidden from him slip down the back of his dress shirt. He loosened his shirt from his pants and shook until what was left of the ice fell to the floor.

"Ha, ha," he muttered, "Very funny."

She laughed, "That _was_ fun, Booth!"

"You tricked me," he accused, sitting back down next to her.

She put on an innocent face and smiled at him, "I would never try and deceive a federal agent."

"Uh-huh," he remained unconvinced.

"Well, maybe a _special_ agent," she acceded with a grin.

"Then _maybe_ I'll eat all the fries myself," he crowed.

"Maybe I don't care."

He leaned in close to her face and whispered, "I bet you do."

"You shouldn't bet, you know," she reproved, tapping his nose with her finger.

"And why might that be?" pulling back a bit, sarcasm oozing from him.

"Because you are a degenerate gambler," she stated.

"Bones," he whined, "You make me sound like some kind of lowlife."

"Well you did struggle with a gambling addiction."

"For which I got countless hours of counseling for and have not 'struggled' as you say, for years now," he stirred the lemon around his water with his straw, "I did fine in Vegas, remember?"

She nodded. For some reason, that excursion had stuck with her throughout the years. Perhaps it was because she had enjoyed stepping into a different role. One that had allowed her extreme proximity to Booth that their otherwise professional relationship would not have.

"Hey, Bones," he poked her shoulder gently, "You still have that Roxy dress?"

"At my apartment, yes," she answered.

"Good," he smiled, "Does it still fit you?"

"Are you implying that I've gained weight?"

"No!"

"Then why would it not still fit me?"

"I don't know, Bones," he threw his left arm up in the air, "Maybe you shrunk it or something."

"No," she shook her head, "I did not. If you must know it's in the rear portion of my closet."

"You should wear it sometime."

"It's hardly appropriate work attire," she reminded him.

Booth waggled his eyebrows, "I wouldn't mind- especially if you leaned over your lab table in it."

"With you watching me, of course," she intoned dryly.

"Of course."

She rolled her eyes, "Alpha male."

"Yup, and proud of it too, baby."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now _that_," he laughed, "Was juvenile, Bones."

She shrugged and smirked at him, "I reasoned that perhaps I should try and speak your language."

"Oh really?"

She nodded.

"Do it again, Bones. I dare ya!"

She eyed him dubiously and quickly attempted to dart her tongue in and out of her mouth as quickly as she could. His lips were on top of hers before she could get her tongue back into her mouth and he captured it, kissing her soundly.

"Dangerous thing," he breathed, breaking the contact, "Sticking your tongue out."

"Apparently," she whispered.

The waitress cleared her throat, causing both of them to jump apart.

"Vegetable soup and Caesar salad for the lady," the woman's nasal voice announced unfazed, laying the food down in front of Brennan, "And a hamburger with double fried for you, sir," she set Booth's plate down in front of him, along with a faux wicker basket that was overflowing with fries, "Enjoy."

They thanked her as she left and turned to the food.

Brennan took the package of saltine crackers that came with her soup and began grinding them.

"What are you doing?" Booth inquired.

"I am breaking up the crackers to put them in my soup."

"You planning on reducing them to powder?"

"No," she finished crushing them and opened the package, pouring the contents into her soup and stirring it with her spoon, "I simply don't like large chunks of crackers in my soup. I prefer them to be small and manageable."

"Learn something new every day, I guess," he smiled at her, taking a large bite from his hamburger.

"Mmm!" he groaned so loudly she was sure the entire diner had heard him, "This is one good burger. You want some?"

She eyed the burger, which was brimming with ketchup mingled with fat juices and shook her head, "No thank you."

"Don't know what you're missing, Bones," he said around another mouthful of the burger.

"I'll survive," she assured him, sipping demurely at her soup.

"You really like that stuff?" he gestured toward her soup and salad.

"Yes," she nodded, "I do, actually."

"And it fills you up?"

"Yes."

"Don't you ever just want to chuck the rabbit food and sink your teeth into a juicy hamburger?"

"Not particularly," she said, moving on to her salad, "And there are other alternatives to meat."

"What?" he scoffed, "Like tofu?"

"It's not so bad once you get used to it," she asserted.

"Anything you have to 'get used to' is already a suspect food in my book."

"You keep a book to record food preferences in?" she was surprised, "I assume that macaroni and cheese is in that book as well."

He grinned, "It's just an expression, Bones. Means that's my opinion. I don't really keep a book. Though if I did," he smiled at her, "Mac and cheese would definitely be under foods that I like!"

"I remember that," she smiled back at him.

"That was the first time you made dinner for me, Bones," he said softly, as if recalling the moment as well.

"I could do it again if you would like," she offered spontaneously.

"That'd be great, Bones," he reached over and tucked her hair back behind her ear, "I'd like that a lot."

She nodded, blushing at the intimate feelings his light touch stirred and impulsively reached out to dab the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"You had ketchup on it," she explained.

"Thanks."

"You kids ready for dessert?" the waitress was back, snapping her gum and tapping her left foot on the linoleum floor.

"Yes," Booth grinned slyly at Brennan, "We'll have-"

"Don't you dare, Booth," his partner warned.

"Pie," he finished, acting as if he had not heard her, "Apple if you have it. Ala mode."

"Sure," the waitress said, "The same for you, Honey?"

"No," Brennan tried to keep her frustration with Booth in check, "I'll have the chocolate cake please."

"With or without ice cream?"

"No ice cream, thank you."

"Alrighty. That'll be right up," the waitress walked away.

"You didn't trust me, Bones," Booth acted hurt, "I trusted you to order dinner the other night."

"I don't like my fruit cooked, Seeley Booth," she huffed, "And I believe I've made that quite clear in the past."

"Doesn't mean I can't keep trying," he grinned.

"You won't be successful," she assured him.

"I am a patient man."

The waitress hustled out just then, bearing their desserts on a tray along with the bill.

"Y'all have a good day now," she waved to them.

Brennan took a forkful of chocolate cake and tasted it. It was delicious. The cake itself was light and airy while the chocolate icing was heavy, but not overly sweet.

"Is it good?" Booth wanted to know.

She nodded, not wanting to speak with her mouthful.

"How is your pie?" she asked when her mouth was empty again.

"Good. Wanna bite?" he dangled a forkful of the pastry in front of her.

"No thanks."

"You don't know what you're missing," he teased.

"Yes I do," she asserted, "And I also think that Dr. Sweets was very wrong in his assessment of your constant pestering."

"Huh?"

"Remember," she said, "He told us that you use it as a form of sexual allurement-"

"I'm pretty sure he didn't say that," Booth cut in.

"Something similar," she continued on, "However, we are now dating, negating the need for you to seduce me with pie and yet you are still offering it to me."

He shrugged, "Wouldn't be the first time the kid's been wrong."

They sat in silence, enjoying their desserts.

"Would you like a bite of my cake, Booth?" she offered when there was only one bite left.

"Aw," he said, "That's okay, Bones. I don't want to take your last bite."

"I'm offering."

"Well," he stretched out the word, "Okay."

She smiled, pleased, and gathered the remaining bite on her fork. She initially had thought to hand him the fork and let him serve himself, but he seemed to be waiting for her to feed him.

Slowly, so as not to spill any of it, she lifted the fork up to his waiting mouth and slipped it in. It amazed her how sensuous she felt as his mouth closed around the cake and pulled on it. He seemed to be lost in the experience as well.

When he was finished it was as if a trance had fallen over both of them. He left enough money to cover the bill and the tip and they left as they had entered, hand-in-hand. Without thinking his escorted her to the passenger's side of the SUV, helped her in, and moved over to his own side.

Sitting down in the driver's seat he looked over at her, "Any time you want to seduce me with chocolate cake," he said in a husky voice, "You go right ahead, Bones."

She met his eyes and nodded, leaning in toward him, "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

She kissed him on the lips, licking around his mouth at the same time.

"You had chocolate on your mouth," she explained.


	13. Chapter 13

First, she had offered him her last bite of cake. Then, she had fed it to him. The feeding was beyond sensual and his mind had immediately begun fantasizing about her in less-than innocent ways. It was as if she had woven a spell on him that he was unable to break free of even if he had wanted to. He had pulled and sucked on the fork slowly and had felt her responding to the spell as well.

He had somehow managed to get them out of the diner and himself back into the driver's seat when she had launched a second attack on him. This one had involved lips touching. Her chocolate breath mixed with his and he could taste the tang of her salad dressing as well. Then he felt her tongue licking him. Every single nerve ending was going haywire inside of him and it took all of his self control not to start ripping off her clothes immediately. Even if they were dating now, the back of his SUV was not where he wanted to make love to her for the first time.

And then- just when he had planned to scrap his last shred of dignity and pull her into the backseat with him- she pulled back. She looked into his eyes and breathlessly explained that he had chocolate on his lips. Her words registered in his ears but his body was still in shock.

He managed a nod.

"You know, Booth," she said demurely, "Perhaps I do like cooked fruit after all."

He must have looked at her oddly because she went on with a small shrug, "At least, second-hand I do."

He cleared his throat and prayed that his voice would not crack, "I told you so."

She arched an eyebrow at him and he decided it was time to change the subject before they had to rent a room.

"And now, milady," he gestured as gallantly as he could, "Your corpse awaits."

She nodded, "We should go before they decide to tamper with my crime scene and disturb the evidence."

"What is it," Booth said as he pulled out of the parking lot and back on the highway, "With you and not disturbing evidence? Is that like your worst nightmare or something?"

"I can't say I've ever had any dreams whatsoever concerning a crime scene," she shook her head, "However, it does bother me when evidence is disturbed."

"But why so much?" he said, "You're quite picky about the whole thing and nobody gets it."

"Booth," she sounded exasperated, "You of all people should understand why. Every shred of evidence- from the largest bone to the smallest particulate- draws us one step closer to telling that person's story and finding the perpetrator."

He nodded and she went on, "Imagine if Hodgins had not recognized what the soil content was when we were buried alive? He never would have been able to devise a message to send to your phone so that Zack would be able to determine what it meant and where we were located.

"When I first started out at the Jeffersonian, it would disturb me when law enforcement officers- who should know better- would bring in bodies, but not the surrounding evidence. I am certain that we could have convicted several killers had they done so. Now that I am out in the field working side-by-side with law enforcement, I make certain to make it quite clear that the evidence is not to be disturbed."

"You've got the reputation now, you know?" he smiled, "People know not to mess with our crime scenes."

"Good," she nodded, as if that was as it should be.

"Which means you can ease up a bit," he said gently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he let out a deep breath, not wanting to offend her, "I mean you gotta cut people some slack, Bones. They know your position by now on things and they respect it. They're also very trustworthy guys. So you need to reward them by backing off every once in a while and not breathing down their necks."

"I have never breathed down anyone's neck," she stated, "That would be sexual harassment at the very least."

"Bones," he rolled his eyes, "Can you for once not be so literal? I meant that you torment these guys by hovering over them and telling them how to do their jobs. Do you realize that some of them have been working with us since the beginning? And you still treat them like morons."

"I didn't realize that, Booth," she said, quietly.

"I know, Bones," he made sure he was not being too harsh on her, "That's part of who you are. And a part of you that I really like," he flashed her a charm smile to let her know he wasn't angry with her, "Your dedication to work is second to none and we all know that you are the smartest person in your field. But you need to learn how to respect them for who they are too."

She nodded, still very quiet and thoughtful.

"You okay over there, Bones?" he asked when she had not said anything for a full fifteen minutes.

"Yes," she managed, "It's a lot for me to process in one sitting."

He smiled, "You'll do just fine, Bones."

"I don't mean to come off as cold or unfeeling," she said meekly.

"I know."

"I just want to be sure that everything is processed thoroughly so that we can catch whoever committed the crime."

"I know, Bones. Believe me, I know. You just need to work on your people skills, that's all."

"It feels like that's _all_ I've been doing for the past four years," he could hear the frustration rising in her voice, "Am I that large of a failure, Booth?"

"No," he reassured her with a quick brush of his hand to her face, "You are way further along than you were four years ago."

She shot him a skeptical look so he quickly thought of some examples.

"You remember people's names better now and you show tons more tact than you ever did when we first met," the corner of her mouth lifted and he continued, "You also have gotten a lot better at interrogation and you and Cam get along instead of butting heads all the time. You've managed to mend bridges both between you and your brother _and_ between you and your dad. And let's not forget your biggest improvement in the people skills department," he smiled.

"What might that be?" she lifted an eyebrow.

"Us, of course," he beamed.

"That is highly egotistical, Booth," she said sternly, "I _have_ dated other men over the past four years."

"Winners all," he said dryly, "Let's face it, Bones, if I had kissed you four years ago for sticking your tongue out at me-"

"I'd have kicked you in the-"

"Thanks, Bones," he winced, "I know. My point is that you and I have a great relationship- a deep and healthy one that you not only acknowledge but are willing to take to the next level. That's something that the Dr. Temperance Brennan I first met, could never have done."

"Would," she corrected automatically.

"No, Bones," he smiled softly at her, "I don't think you _could_ have gone this deep with anybody back then. You trust people a whole lot more now than you used to. I doubt you really even let Angela in at that point."

"We discussed some things," she admitted, "But not much that was personal."

"And now you do," he said, "Well, except this new thing between us, which you really _should_ tell her before she finds out and castrates me or something."

"I will," she said slowly, "When we return to the Jeffersonian."

"That's my girl," he smiled tenderly.

"So I truly have evolved?" she asked.

"Yeah, Bones, you have," he assured her.

"Then I shall endeavor to evolve further as regards the crime scene officials," she stated firmly.

"Good for you, Bones," he grinned, "And good timing."

"Why?"

"Because we're here."


	14. Chapter 14

They passed a sign saying "Welcome to Calvert Cliffs State Park" and pulled up to a small guard shack just beyond the entrance.

"That'll be five bucks," the guard said lazily, holding out a collection can.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, FBI," Booth flashed his badge, "And this is Dr. Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian."

"Oh yeah," the man scratched his head, "I remember them saying something about that. Just follow this road up to the big parking lot. You can't miss 'em."

"Thanks," Booth pasted a fake smile on his face and pulled away.

"Why would a state-run park be charging money for admittance?" Brennan asked as they crept up the dirt road.

"Some of these smaller parks have had to, Bones, in order to stay open," Booth explained, "It means they aren't getting the funding that they need."

"Oh," she said, "I didn't realize that."

"You learn something new every day," he grinned at her.

"Yes," she nodded, "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"You will remember that we are professionals now, correct?" she tried not to seem cold or bossy.

"Meaning?" he teased.

"Meaning no physical displays of affection," she gave him a phony scowl.

"No PDA," he repeated, "Got it."

The drive up to the parking lot was short and Brennan saw why the guard had told them they could not miss it. At least a dozen law-enforcement vehicles had assembled there and the local police were keeping an eye on the general public and steering them away from all of the activity.

They got out of the SUV and introduced themselves to Officer Lane Watson, the officer in charge.

"So what've we got here?" Booth wanted to know.

"Local scavenger," the officer pointed disgustedly at an obese man who was looking as if the park was the last place he wished to be, "Came out here to dig up some shark teeth and ended up unearthing a foot instead," he handed Booth an evidence bag filled with several bones, though Brennan doubted that all twenty-seven of the bones that comprised a foot were there.

She was about to correct him as to the proper names for each of the bones that had been discovered, but she caught Booth's eye and changed her question, "Why was he searching for shark's teeth? Aren't there a plethora of them in the area?"

"Yeah," Watson said, "But the tourists don't know that and these guys can make a killing selling them along the roadside or in their little stores to the gullible."

"Think he was involved at all?" Booth asked.

"Mickey?" Watson shook his head, "Nah. He's too dumb to do anything like that. Besides, he took one look at his find and barfed in the water."

"Water?" Brennan frowned, looking around but seeing nothing but a large pond that would not have produced shark's teeth, "Where exactly was the body found?"

"Down at the cliffs," the man gestured behind him, "Only accessible through hiking trails. We can get you most of the way there on the maintenance trails but you'll have to walk the rest of the way."

She and Booth exchanged a look and she knew he was ruing wearing a suit today.

"We'll have to load Dr. Brennan's equipment," Booth informed Watson, "So if you could point us in that direction…"

"Sounds good," Watson nodded, "The park pickup is right over there," he pointed to a dirt-covered vehicle which looked several years old, "You can just toss whatever you need in the back. I'll drive you down when you're ready."

The pair nodded and headed back to the SUV. Booth opened the trunk and began shouldering her bags.

"I can help you, you realize," she scolded him.

"It's okay, Bones," he insisted, "I've got it."

"Well I need that bag," she pointed to a small duffel bag, "It contains my jumpsuit and boots."

He handed it to her and she excused herself and went in search of a restroom.

Five minutes later she had changed and put her hair up in a ponytail. She put the bag back into Booth's SUV and met the men at the truck.

"Ready to go, Bones?" Booth inquired.

"As long as all of my equipment is in the back," she responded teasingly.

"I grabbed all of it," he assured her.

Satisfied that they were ready to go, the three of them loaded into the small cab of the pickup. Booth kept a steadying hand on the small of her back as she climbed into the middle seat. It was quite cramped once they were all in as neither Booth, nor Officer Watson were small men.

As they drove, Watson regaled them with facts about the park and it's native flora and fauna, as well as how many tourist attractions they boasted. Brennan tried to seem interested, however much of the journey was spent trying to keep her seat and not ending up in Booth's lap. At one point Booth had to grab her firmly around the waist to keep her from flying around the cab. The twinkle in his eye told her that he would not mind at all if she happened to land on him and she shot him a teasing glare to remind him of their pact to be professional.

Ten minutes into the seemingly-unending trip she decided that being in that truck along the unpaved trail reminded her of how the kernels of popcorn used to bounce around in her parents' old air-powered popper. She was relieved when their driver announced that they would now have to walk the rest of the way.

She allowed Booth to help her out of the cab and leaned on him for several seconds until she got her bearings back. Fortunately, Watson did not see them as he was going on about a collection of beavers' handiwork that could be seen from their current location. Their loquacious guide aside, Brennan did find the area to be quite beautiful and well-preserved.

Booth and Brennan shouldered her equipment and the set out along the trail. It didn't take them long to reach the beach.

"What body of water is this?" Brennan queried their guide.

"Chesapeake Bay," Watson grunted, his boots getting bogged down in the sand.

There was a section of the beach that had been cordoned off with the familiar yellow tape and they headed for it. Brennan took a deep breath. She tried to keep everything that Booth had suggested in mind, while also taking note of the scene around her.

They were about thirty feet back from the shoreline, which appeared to be at high tide. Watson informed them that this was a restricted part of the beach because the cliffs were eroding and were known to shift. Mingling with the smell of the water was also the familiar smell of death. It was sickly sweet and contrasted sharply with the briny scent around it.

As she crossed through the yellow tape, she felt her confidence swell. For the past several days she had been enveloped in all of the newness of her deeper relationship with Booth and while it had not been wholly unpleasant, it had been unnerving at times. Here, though, she felt comfortable and at ease. It was time to get to work. Unconsciously, she blocked out all feelings of revulsion and concentrated on the victim and the story of their life which was about to unfold in front of her.

She could see where the shark tooth dealer had dug into the sand. The crude hole was roughly three feet deep and extended nearly two feet in diameter. On closer examination, she was fairly certain that the lower tip of the tibia was protruding from one end of the hole near where the tarsals, metatarsals, and phalanges had been recovered, giving her a good estimation as to where to begin digging for the remainder of the body.

"Ready to break out the shovels?" she jumped slightly at the sound of Booth's voice in such close proximity to her.

"No," she shook her head, "This will require careful removal of the sand with trowels so that we don't miss any of the bones or the evidence."

"Could be an all-nighter?" he wanted to know next.

She glanced at her watch. It was three o'clock in the afternoon now.

"Yes," she nodded, "And I will need some lights sent down so that we can work once the sun sets."

"You got it," he smiled, "Anything else?"

"We will need to devise a strategy for transporting the bones," she stood up and dusted the sand off of her jumpsuit, giving her full attention to Booth, "The ride down that trail was far too bumpy for me to trust them to get back unharmed and I don't see any suitable place for a helicopter to land."

"Could boat 'em out," Booth pointed to the bay, "Plenty of water around here Bones. We can get the Coast Guard to come around and pick up whatever you've got whenever you're ready."

"That seems like a sound idea," she agreed, "Will you handle the arrangements then?"

"Yup," dug his cell phone out of his pocket and waved it at her, "As long as I can get reception."

They shared a smile and she headed over to the equipment they had brought down.

It was time to get started.


	15. Chapter 15

It took him a while to get everything set up for her, but he did. Watson had headed back up the trails to bring down the lights and the generator that Bones would need to work through the night as well as dinner for the entire crew. Booth had gotten in touch with the local Coast Guard unit and they were standing by to pick up the body once it was ready.

He had also gotten back in touch with Cam and Cullen and updated them each on the situation. Cam assured him that the squints at the Jeffersonian would be ready whenever the body came in and promised she would authorize Brennan to rent a hotel room on the Jeffersonian's dime. She assured him that the forensic anthropologist would know how to handle the transaction.

Cullen was glad that they weren't having any problems with local law enforcement and that everything was going smoothly so far. He ordered Booth to keep him updated on the case, but had to go to a meeting before Booth could tell him that this would be an overnight trip. Sometimes the FBI could be stingy about the expenses incurred by agents on duty, so he was never sure what they would cover and what they wouldn't. If it came down to it he would either sleep in the back of his SUV or pay for the room himself.

Cursing for the umpteenth time that day that he had not been able to stop by his place and get something other than one of him most formal suits, he snapped his phone shut and headed up the beach to where Bones was. He watched with pride as she directed each tech firmly, but kindly, as to what she wanted and what she required of them. She seemed to have taken his advice to heart and several times he could read in her body language that she was frustrated but she didn't snap or demean anyone. Calmly, she set things in order, all the while working to free the body without compromising any of it.

He found a fallen log in the shade by where she was working, shed his suit jacket, and sat down to rest. She was in the sand, carefully removing and sifting though each trowel full of sand. It looked like tedious work to him. She had been working for over two hours now and had an area that was about six feet in length and was about a foot deep from what he could see. A part of him wanted to grab a shovel and spare her the exhausting work, while the other part reminded him that she would bury him if he messed up the crime scene.

A young kid from the local police department came up the beach lugging a cooler, and offered him a bottle of cold water. With fall just around the corner he was not expecting such hot weather- and it was especially hot in the sun on the beach. He grabbed a bottle of water for himself and one for Bones, deciding that now was as good a time as any to interrupt her and fill her in on arrangements.

"Hey, Bones," he crossed the tape and gently tapped her shoulder.

She obviously had not heard him approach her and jumped a bit at his touch, whipping around to see who it was.

"Booth!"

"That's my name," he grinned, waving the spare water bottle in one hand, "Why don't you take a breather for a few minutes? You've been at this over two hours now."

"We still haven't gotten down to the body," she accepted the bottle, opened it, and took a long swig, "And I doubt we will before nightfall."

Booth nodded. The sun was already starting to sink in the sky as evening approached and he estimated they had two hours at the most before it would be down completely.

Around them, the techs were scurrying here and there and he felt like they were getting in the way, "Why don't you come out for a sec, Bones. I can let you know what I've got coming and you can fill me in on what you've gotten so far."

She nodded, two beads of sweat racing down her face from her hair, "I can't be long.

"I know, Bones," he grinned reassuringly at her, "Let's grab a seat."

He led her over to the log in the shade. It wasn't big enough for the two of them so he let her sit while he stood, leaning up against the cliff behind him.

"Were you able to secure a ship from the Coast Guard?" she asked, taking another long drink of water and mopping the sweat off of her brow.

He had never thought that jumpsuits were particularly flattering, but the sweat was making it cling to her in a very flattering way and he was having trouble concentrating on what she was saying.

"Booth," she interrupted his reverie, "Did you hear a word I just said?"

"Coast Guard," he said in a hurry, "Yeah, they're waiting for my call. Got a hold of Cam too; she says to go ahead and charge a hotel room and they'll cover it. She said you'd know what to do."

Ignoring what he said she looked right at him, "Were you ogling me, Booth?" she asked, lifting a delicate eyebrow at him.

"Maybe," he mumbled, kicking the sand around at his feet and looking anywhere but directly at her.

She laughed, "This is hardly one of my more flattering outfits, you know?"

"Yeah," he said, catching her grin out of the corner of his eye, "But, it- um- clings and curves a lot more right now."

She looked down, noticing probably for the first time that she was drenched in sweat, "I suppose it does," she lowered her voice a notch, "Though that isn't very professional of you."

"Hey," he threw up his hands with a charm smile, "You said don't touch. I'm not touching anything. Ogling wasn't on the list."

"There was no list," she countered, "Though I did ask you to behave professionally."

"Hey," he shrugged, "I've been on the phone for two hours getting everything set up for you. I got you your boat, your lights are on their way along with dinner, and I gave you an excuse to take a break from the hot sun. I figure a little ogling is my reward."

"Really?" she didn't miss a beat and stood up to face him toe to toe, "And have you made it a habit of 'rewarding' yourself over the years?"

"I have always been a gentleman," he said smugly, though they both knew he was fudging the truth, "You have a problem with a guy ogling his girlfriend?"

She ducked her head for a quick second and he could've sworn he saw her blush, though the sun had pinked her cheeks too, "No," she was back to meeting his gaze now, "Just tell the guy to try not to make it so obvious the next time and to wipe the drool off his face when he's done."

She tossed her empty bottle at him and headed back to the dig.

"Dinner will be here in forty-five minutes," he called after her.

She nodded and threw a brief smile over her shoulder in thanks, then she tightened her ponytail and got back down in the sand.

"Agent Booth!" it was the kid police officer calling from across the beach.

Booth stifled a sigh and headed over to him.

"What's that?" he gestured at the officer's hands.

"It's an iron bar, sir," the kid was breathing heavy and looked like it was Christmas or something, "Metal detector picked it up in the brush just inside the trail," he pointed back to where Booth and Brennan had first come out onto the beach, "Do you think it might be the murder weapon?"

Booth shrugged, "I don't know. Bag it and process it and we'll see if it fits once the body's out."

Only slightly deflated, the young man nodded, "It could be though, right?"

"Look kid, if there's one thing I've learned about working with the squints is that you don't jump to any conclusions until you have the body. They don't even jump after they have the body, but definitely don't say anything to them now."

The officer acted as if Booth had passed along a great pearl of wisdom, "Thank you, sir. I'll remember that from now on."

"You do that," Booth tried not to outright laugh and managed to keep his tone even, "Why don't you go bag that?"

"Right," the young man gave a quick acknowledgement and headed down to the temporary processing center that had been set up for any evidence that was found.

Booth shook his head just as his cell phone rang in his pocket.

It was Watson, who had made it as far as he could in the truck and was requesting some manpower to get everything down to the beach. Booth promised they would be right up and went looking for some people he could pull off their duties.

It took the six men, including Booth and Watson, nearly an hour to haul everything down from the truck to the beach. The food had been fairly light and simple to carry, but the heavy lighting equipment had proven to be difficult to maneuver down the narrow trail. The generator had not been much better, though at least it had been on a wheeled travois that made it a little easier to move. Sawhorses and a sheet of plywood had been erected to set the food on and after making sure that he wasn't needed anymore, Booth went to collect Bones and the techs.

They had made at least another foot of progress since he had last checked in on them. The fading sun had helped cool them down, but was beginning to hamper their work.

"Chow time," Booth announced, ducking under the tape, "Table's set up over on the beach so go help yourselves."

Everyone responded immediately and started making their way over to the table; everyone, of course, except Bones. She was still on her knees, still scooping up sand as cautiously as she had when she'd first begun. While he marveled at her stamina, his stomach reminded him that it was time for both of them to eat.

"Come on, Bones," he said softly, "Time for forensic anthropologists to eat too."

"It's alright, Booth," she replied without turning toward him, "I'll stay here with the remains until someone else is finished eating. We shouldn't leave them unattended."

"I wasn't born yesterday," Booth rolled his eyes and plopped down on the sand next to her, "Watson brought down a couple of fresh hands along with the lights and sandwiches. They'll help get the lights set up and stand guard while we eat, okay?"

"Fine," though she sounded like she was anything but.

She stood up, brushed herself off, and turned to Booth, "Would you like help getting up?"

"Naw, I got it Bones," he stood up easily, "Good thing you decided to come though or I may have had to take drastic measures."

"Indeed," she smiled up at him as they crossed the beach to join the others, "And what might that have entailed?"

"Eh," he grinned mischievously, "A little of this, a little of that, and a LOT of tongue."

It was her turn to roll her eyes and she socked him in the arm for good measure.

"Now, Bones," Booth said reprovingly, "No PDAs remember?"

Boldly she stuck out her tongue and slipped into the crowd of people who were crowded around the table. Booth laughed, knowing that payback for that would be extremely fun later on.

At first he was disappointed because Bones chose to eat with the techs, but he was happy to see that she was making the effort to get along with them and decided that he would eat with the rest of the cops. They bantered back and forth while bolting down their food and immediately set to work setting up the lights and the generator around the dig site.

Eventually the scientists and techs finished their meal as well and Bones rounded them up and got them right back to work.

"Booth," she paused on her way back to get his attention, "It could be several hours still until we are finished, though I feel we are quite close. I would understand if you wanted to go to the hotel."

He shook his head, "Can't do that. Those bones up there are your responsibility and you, Bones, are mine," he held up his hand to cut off her protest, "This has nothing to do with us dating, Bones. You're my partner and it's my job, according to the FBI, to make sure you are safe at all times. Besides, you'll need me to call the Coast Guard when you're ready anyway."

"Are you certain, Booth? I really would understand if you wanted to get some sleep."

"It's not too late yet, Bones, and I heard Watson brought down some firewood and marshmallows so we'll be good."

"You boys have fun, then," she smiled, turning back to the dig.

Booth smiled back and gave her a little wave before joining the cadre of police officers that were gathering around the campfire. They would rotate in shifts to guard the crime scene as the night progressed.

One hour passed.

Then another.

And another.

On Booth's second round of guard duty, the newest officers that had been brought down convinced him that they would keep everyone safe and that he needed to get some sleep. The last thing Booth remembered before he stretched out on the sand in front of the fire was that he never had called to make reservations at any of the local hotels. And he didn't think that Bones had made any either.


	16. Chapter 16

Brennan stood, stretched, brushed the sand off her jumpsuit, and glanced at her wristwatch. It was one-fourteen in the morning and she had successfully unearthed the body in the sand. She was pleased with her work, though admittedly fatigued from the long hours spent hunching over in one position. No matter how many hours she spent in the interrogation with Booth, or out in the field helping him chase down criminals, she would never feel as satisfied as she did after a dig- especially a successful dig such as tonight's.

After tedious hours of carefully moving the sand layer by layer and then brushstroke by brushstroke, she had unearthed every single bone in the victim's body. She and the techs had photographed and noted the location of each bone and had transferred them into a case lined with foam that would keep them from breaking on their trip back to the Jeffersonian. She gladly would have notified the Coast Guard, however she did not know how to go about doing that, therefore she would have to rely on Booth.

Walking away from the crime scene and toward the campfire on the beach, she loosened her hair from its ponytail and yawned. By the time she gained the fire her eyes had adjusted to the dim light and she could see that the object of her search was, in fact, sound asleep on the beach.

The only other people on the beach now were the two guards that stood watch over the remains and she sat down in the sand beside where Booth lay. He had balled up his suit jacket to use as a pillow and was covered in a ragged blanket that must have been in the back of someone's truck. A peaceful expression was on his face and he reminded her of a grown-up version of Parker. Pity she would have to wake him soon.

As good as it felt to be able to stretch out and warm herself by the fire, she knew that they needed to transport the body as soon as possible.

"Bones," Booth groaned, squinting up at her, "You done yet?"

"Yes," she yawned, "The remains are ready for transport."

"'Bout time," Booth sat up and stretched wide, "Anybody else here?"

"Just the two guards who are up by the remains," she pointed to two shadowy figures beyond the bright lights, "We should contact the Coast Guard soon.

"Will do," he said, "Just one item of business to clear up first."

"What's that?"

"Follow me," he nodded toward the darkened part of the beach.

Casting him a sidelong look, she followed cautiously. He extended his hand to her when they were several feet out from the fire and she took it, grateful for his help navigating in the dark.

"Right here's good," she heard him say.

"Good for what?"

"You, my dear Bones, stuck your tongue out at me earlier tonight."

"Technically," she pointed out, "That was yesterday."

"Technically," he pulled her close, cupping her face in his hands, "I don't care."

He captured her mouth with his, stirring up all of the emotions that she had set aside to do her job well. She felt herself become more and more involved in his embrace, a voice at the back of her mind screaming that this was not appropriate on the job behavior. She ignored it.

"That's all," he pulled back suddenly, grinning down at her, "Consider yourself punished, Dr. Brennan."

She was panting, heavily, unable to speak or react to what had just taken place.

"Com' on, Bones," he called softly to her in the dark, "Let's call in the cavalry so we can get some sleep while it's still dark."

She nodded, still stunned speechless, trying desperately to turn thoughts into words and failing miserably. He reached out his hand to her again and she took it. Placing one foot in front of the other, she managed to make it back to the fire where Booth helped sit her down while he went to make the call.

An hour later, it was done.

The Coast Guard came promptly, picked up the remains, and promised to see it safely to the Jeffersonian courier that would be waiting for them. Meanwhile, Booth and the two guards had made quick work of filling in the hole in the sand and Brennan had packed up the equipment that she and Booth had brought down to the beach.

They put out the fire and headed for the truck that had been left for them at the end of the maintenance trail. One of the guards rode in the back while the other drove. Booth insisted on sitting in the middle seat so that Brennan wouldn't go flying around the cab as she had on the trip down. She was too weary to argue.

The guards dropped them off in the parking lot. Booth thanked them and helped Brennan carry her equipment back to the SUV. They climbed inside.

Booth heaved a sigh of relief, dropping his head down on the steering wheel, "I'm tired."

"Well," Brennan managed, "I guess we should go to the hotel then. Do you know how to get there from here?"

"Um," he said, looking up at her slightly embarrassed, "I forgot to book a hotel room."

"Oh," she frowned, "Well I didn't. I have a room at the Marriot about five minutes from here according to the receptionist. You're welcome to share it with me."

"Well then," he said, gunning the engine, "Buckle up Bones 'cause we're headed for the hotel."

She gave him and weak smile and yawned widely, "I'll direct you."

Fifteen minutes later, they were in the hotel, checked into their room.

"This is a swanky joint, Bones," Booth said, plopping down on the bed, "Comfortable mattress even."

She shrugged, pulling some clothes out of her small duffle bag, "They were recommended by the local directory assistant. I'm going to shower."

"Go for it, Bones," he grinned, flipping on the television, "Need any help?"

She shook her head, "Not tonight Booth."

He winked, "It's okay, Bones. Wake me up when it's my turn."

"But you're not asleep."

"I will be by the time you get done."

She threw a wave over her shoulder and headed into the small restroom. She peeled off her jumpsuit and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water flow over her and rinse away the sand. Next, she took out the bottle of scented soap that she always packed in her duffle bag, along with the change of clothes and nightshirt. She had determined over the years that one never knew when one went out to a crime scene if one was going to return home at night so she always came prepared.

Of course, she had not been prepared to share the room with Booth. She stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and hoped that Booth would indeed be asleep and would not notice how much skin her nightshirt revealed.

Exiting the bathroom she heaved a sigh of relief upon spotting her partner sprawled out on the bed fast asleep. The television was turned off; the lights were not. He was still in the same suit he had worn on their date, though he had long since shed the jacket and tie. She had not seen an overnight bag in his SUV so she doubted that he would have any clean clothes for tomorrow.

"Booth," she called softly, "I'm done. You wanted me to wake you up."

"You smell good," he murmured, turning over and flashing her a sleepy smile, "Really good, Bones."

"Thank you, Booth," she was not sure what the proper response was.

"I'll be back," he yawned, pulling himself up and dragging his feet in the direction of the bathroom.

She smiled, then stared as he began taking off his clothes before he had shut the bathroom door.

"Booth!" she called as he reached to remove his boxers.

He looked up suddenly.

"The door is still open," she told him, "If you set your clothes out when you are done, however, I can have room service lauder them for tomorrow.

He nodded, waved, and to her relief shut the door before removing his boxers. A few minutes later, everything but the boxers appeared outside the bathroom door and she called for room service to come pick them up.

Once Booth's clothes were taken care of, she decided that they were both long overdue for sleep and decided to turn off the light and crawl into bed. She avoided looking at the clock, knowing that it was very early in the morning but not wanting to know exactly what time it really was.

A few minutes later, she felt Booth's warm body slip under the covers beside her.

"You did a good job out there today, Bones," he said softly.

"Thank you, Booth," she replied, "And thank you for seeing to everything else."

"Except finding myself a hotel room," she caught his wry grin in the dark.

"Well maybe," she shifted her body closer to him, "I don't mind your presence here at all."

"Really, Bones?" his voice was nearly a whisper.

She shrugged, "We slept together last night too, didn't we?"

He let out a tired laugh, "Indeed we did, Bones. Indeed we did."

"Good night, Booth," she rolled over, knowing that she could never fall asleep while facing him.

"Good night, Bones."

They were both asleep within minutes.


	17. Chapter 17

For the second morning in a row, Booth woke up to the smell of Bones' shampoo. He inhaled deeply and smiled as he opened his eyes. Just before he had fallen asleep she had rolled up against him and he had wrapped his arms around her. Now he lay holding her, enjoying the feel of her body against his, and thinking that he could easily do this for the rest of his life.

She shifted in her sleep, her legs brushing his thighs and sending a shiver of pleasure up his spine. He loved watching her when she was asleep. He couldn't count the number of times he'd come into her office in the morning to find her passed out on her couch. Most times he would simply stand there and watch her, admiring her serene beauty and her dedication to her job until she sensed his presence and woke up. Of course there were other times that he hounded her and made sure that she went home at a decent hour and got some sleep.

He stroked her hair softly, thankful that they had finally come to the point where he could do this and not risk invoking her wrath.

She turned over in his arms and opened her eyes, "Hello."

"Hey, Bones," he smiled, "Did you sleep okay?"

She nodded sleepily, "I did, actually. I presume I migrated into your arms at some point in the night?"

"Guess so," he shrugged, "I woke up and you were here. Not that I'm complaining, of course," he grinned.

"Of course," she nodded.

"Second morning in a row waking up in bed with you, Bones," he grinned, "You're spoiling me."

"Is that such a bad thing?" she traced a line on his chest with her finger so lightly all of the hairs on his body stood up and took note.

"No, Bones," he breathed, "I could wake up to this for the rest of my life and die a happy man."

A shadow crossed her face and he cursed himself for bringing up dying. But then it passed as quickly as it had come.

"I think I'd like being a part of that," she moved closer, pressing her thighs against his.

He held out his hand to her, fingers splayed, palm up, inviting her to join hands. She accepted and their fingers entwined around one another.

"I love you, Bones," he spoke firmly, finally brave enough to voice the feelings he had felt for so long.

"I know," she nodded, "And I believe I love you as well, Booth."

He was taken aback for a minute. Ever since she had accepted what was between them and agreed to move forward and date, he had agonized as to how to let her know that he loved her- that he had loved her for years now- and that he always would love her come what may. In that moment he had sensed that the time had come and that whatever her reaction it was time to lay his feelings on the line and see where the chips would fall- only to find that she knew that he loved her and that she loved him as well.

"You talk a lot when you think I've hung up the phone," she whispered in his ear.

Understanding dawned on his face and he blushed, "So you love me too, eh?"

"I believe so," she played with his fingers, her eyes darting up to his and then back to some spot on the bed, "Though 'love' is not a truly quantifiable concept."

"And you and your empiricism are okay with that?" he arched an eyebrow teasingly.

"As long as I am with you," she looked directly into his eyes, "Yes."

"I'll never abandon you, Temperance," he vowed, "Your heart is safe with me."

"I know, Seeley," she smiled, bringing their joined hands to her mouth and kissing each one of his fingers lightly, "Now show me how love is made."

He started with a kiss and she responded with passion. The kissing led to touching. The touching led to the loss of the few clothes that they were wearing.

"You are beautiful, Bones," he breathed heavily, appreciating the view that was before him.

"You are very handsome yourself, Booth," she smiled demurely, tracing her finger along his pectorals, eliciting a shiver from him.

"You positive about this?" he questioned her.

"Completely," she assured him, wrapping her arms and legs around him and pulling him on top of her.

Their passion was nursed to a slow boil until it finally overflowed and both of them lay intertwined with one another, completely content.

"That was-" she started.

"Very good," he finished.

"Just good?" she leaned up on one elbow and looked him in the eye.

"Well, you know what they say, Bones," he grinned, "Practice makes perfect."

"Indeed it does," she smiled.

He pulled her close and she laid her head on his damp chest. They were both nearly asleep when a cell phone rang.

"That's you, Bones," he murmured in her ear.

She groaned and reached for the phone where it lay on the nightstand.

"Brennan," she answered, no hint of her previous activities present, and paused, "Yes Cam, we're still in Maryland," she cuddled up against Booth and there was another pause.

"It was close to two in the morning before we arrived at the hotel," she explained to Cam.

Booth shook his head violently, warning her that she might be saying too much. Bones waved him off.

"Yes, I can pass along that message to Booth when I see him," Booth shot her a grin but she continued unaffected, "I would think that we will be returning to Washington later today if you could make certain that the bones are ready for my inspection."

The conversation degenerated into a deluge of squint speak and Booth became bored quickly. He began playing with a strand of her hair that was tickling his chest. He wrapped it around his finger, marveling at its smoothness and tugged at it playfully.

"Ow!" Bones exclaimed loudly into the phone, "Sorry, Cam. I caught my hair on something," she glared at Booth, but continued the conversation.

Deciding that it was too much fun to pass over, he continued poking and prodding and pecking her with small kisses all over her body. He was highly impressed with his Bones, who didn't miss a beat with Cam, and even managed to ward him off what he found to be highly ticklish spots. Finally, she said goodbye and hung up and he grinned at her, catching her into his arms and drawing her back down to him.

"Booth," she protested lightly as he caressed her body, "We do have to return to work, you know?"

"We will," he said between kisses, pressing himself up against her and enjoying the reaction he got, "Eventually. What did Cam want?"

"To let me know that the remains had arrived," she returned his kisses with equal passion, "And to give me a message for you."

"She couldn't call me herself?" he crawled on top of her.

"Apparently," she ran her hands up and down his back, pulling him closer, "Someone turned off their cell phone for the night."

"Yeah, well," he smirked, leaning his hips into hers, "I didn't feel like getting any early morning interruptions."

Whatever her response was, he cut it off with a kiss that left both of them in little doubt of the other one's feelings. They groaned in tandem as once again their bodies moved together as one and they broke the laws of physics.

"Well that was invigorating," Bones smiled at him as they lay together, panting, "I believe, however, that we should get started on the rest of our day."

"Aw, Bones," he complained, "What's the rush?"

"For one thing," she said, giving him a kiss and climbing out of bed, "We have a case to solve."

"Cam told you that we aren't needed back until tomorrow," he interjected smugly.

"You heard?" she said incredulously.

"You _were_ cuddled right up against me," he pointed out, "Doesn't take super-hearing for that."

"So you know she talked with Cullen already," it was a statement more than a question, "And that he wants you to question the natives and see if you can unearth any leads."

"Yup," he nodded, sitting up and folding his hands behind his head, "Though I really doubt he used those words."

She shrugged, "Don't spit on the messenger."

"Shoot," he laughed, climbing out of bed and stretching, "It's 'Don't shoot the messenger' Bones, not spit on."

She shrugged again and set off for the bathroom. A minute later he heard the water turn on and he decided that he needed a shower too. She must not have heard him because she jumped when he entered the shower with her and let out a muted scream.

"What are you doing in here, Booth?" she demanded, not as happy as he thought she would be.

"A guy's gotta shower too, Bones," he put on his best charm smile, "And besides, you stole all the hot water last night."

"I did not!"

"Yes you did, Bones," he shook a reproving finger at him, "And you know what cold water does to my boys."

"Your 'boys' seemed to fair just fine this morning," she grinned, letting him slip under the water as she moved to wash herself.

He ignored her and intercepted her arm as she went to clean herself, "I'll take care of that for you Bones."

"Oh no," she shook her head, "It was nine o'clock when I came in here and we have to check out by ten."

"And what does that have to do with me washing you?" he asked innocently.

"Because we would never be able to leave on time," she said, looking pointedly at his midsection.

"Don't say I didn't offer," he clucked.

"Offer it again sometime," she laughed.

They finished showering without any further delays.

Bones retrieved Booth's newly cleaned and pressed suit for him and by ten o'clock they had checked out of the room and were back in the SUV.

"Well, Bones," he grinned, starting up the engine, "You ready to hunt down the bad guy?"

She nodded and they were on their way.


	18. Chapter 18

They had done it.

They had crossed the line that Booth had so carefully drawn- twice, in fact.

As Booth drove them to the local sheriff's office, Brennan sat quietly next to him, contemplating the morning's events. Her feelings fluctuated by the minute.

One part of her felt like a giddy youth: Had he enjoyed it as much as she had? Had he always been that attractive and she just that blind to it? Would she always feel such pleasure even from a simple kiss? Should she invite him back to her apartment when they got back to Washington? Did he have as much fun flirting with her as she did with him?

The other part of her was analyzing the situation pragmatically: What would this mean for their partnership? Was it the right thing to do? What repercussions lay in store? Would Cam and Cullen allow them to continue working together? Were they moving in together? Would Booth want her to marry him eventually? Would he then wish to have children? How many concessions would she be expected to make as their relationship continued to progress?

Certainly the concept of sleeping with someone after only one date was not completely foreign to her. That had occurred several times. She had never, however, slept with a man whom she knew so well before. She had known Michael, Peter, and Sully for varying amounts of time before they dated and slept together. But she had not known any of them for very long beforehand and they had certainly had not been friends beforehand.

Perhaps that was the crux of her emotional quandary. She enjoyed being in a physical relationship with Booth but feared that it would be fleeting and not worth giving up the deep friendship they already shared. She and Booth had a deep bond that she had never experienced since her parents had abandoned her.

Booth pulled into a parking lot and parked and she got out, not noticing where they were. She heard Booth come up behind her and felt a thrill when he took her hand into his own.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She looked at him quizzically, then glanced up and noticed that he had parked at a Bob Evans restaurant, and blushed, "Yes, actually. Though shouldn't we start working on the case?"

"Gotta eat if we want to be any good in the field," he swung their hands in a leisurely fashion and grinned, "Besides, Bones, I haven't had a decent meal since that diner yesterday."

They reached the restaurant and he escorted her in with one hand on the small of her back. She smiled, relishing the simple touch. They were seated within minutes and Booth pulled her onto the bench beside him. He ordered a large breakfast including eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes. She chose French toast.

"Looked like you were thinking pretty hard there, Bones," Booth commented as they sipped on their coffee.

She nodded, staring idly around her so as to avoid his gaze.

"Hey," he said gently, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, "What's going on in here?" he tapped her head lightly.

"Are you expecting marriage now?" she blurted out softly.

He choked on his coffee, then smirked, "Well I was hoping for at least one more date, Bones, but if you really want to…"

She punched him in the shoulder and glared at him, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," he took her hand and stroked it, "I do."

"And?"

"We just started dating," he started, "And yes, now we've-" he searched for the right word.

"Engaged in sexual inter-" he cut her off with a finger to her lips.

"Tact, Bones," he scolded, "I was going to say that we made love."

"I said that," she insisted.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat, "No, Bones, I'm not planning a wedding yet."

"Oh," she tried in vain to keep the sliver of disappointment out of her voice, "Well good."

"Still think marriage is outdated?" he kept his tone light.

She shrugged, "While I am willing to concede to monogamy being the more prudent course I still feel there are far more risks to a marriage relationship than outweigh the benefits. Not to mention it's demeaning effect on women."

"Demeaning?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," she said, "Women are expected to take on their husband's identity in lieu of their own, they are expected to keep house, bear children, and then take on the role of the children's primary care-giver. Women who choose to give up their careers are looked down upon by those who do not and vice versa.

"Financially, they are put at risk should divorce ever take place. And emotionally they are vulnerable to whatever the whims of the husband may be; though I grant that some are less demanding and overbearing than others. Still all men I have had contact with have come to view their wives as their responsibility, implying that the women are unable to care from themselves."

"Huh," Booth said, sitting back as the waitress brought their food.

They ate in silence and Brennan wondered if being so candid had been the wisest choice. She had meant every word that she had spoken. But they sounded so very shallow in light of what she and Booth had shared earlier that morning. She truly did enjoying waking up beside him in the morning and resting in the strength of his arms. She knew that he would lay down his life for her and knew from losing him how much she had come to depend on him over the years.

What still eluded her was why she seemed to struggle between the comfort that came in relying on him, and her desire to be a strong, independent career woman. It was ludicrous that a woman of her means and career achievements still felt the need to prove to the male world that she was self-sufficient and yet that was exactly the struggle that she faced. Still, she quite enjoyed her career and did not wish to give it up and become a homemaker.

"Bones," Booth said softly, "Do really think that's what marriage is?"

She nodded, her mouth full of French toast.

"That explains a lot, you know?" he looked hard at her.

She didn't know how to respond so she said nothing.

They finished the meal, paid, and left the restaurant. Booth drove them back toward where they had come from that morning, crossing a large bridge that Brennan had somehow missed in her morning musings on the trip over. He took an exit directly off of the bridge that took them along the waterfront. He parked in a small lot.

"Come on, Bones," he nodded his head, "Walk with me."

"But the case," she reminded him.

"Look," he reached over the seat and took her hand, "You've done your part and the squints are working hard for you back in Washington doing theirs. I talked to Cullen while you were puzzling life out on the drive to the restaurant, gave him everything the locals gave me, and he agreed there's not much we can do until you bone whisperers do your job. Cam told you not to report in until tomorrow, so today we can work on us."

"Us?" she said, surprised to hear him use the terms after her earlier verbal onslaught.

"Us," he said firmly, "You are not pushing me away that easily, Temperance. Not when I've waited years for this. And not without giving this a real shot."

"Perhaps we do have a lot to talk about," she admitted.

They got out and headed to the boardwalk that wove along the coastline. Booth offered his hand to help her up onto it and she accepted. He didn't let go.

"So you're not breaking up with me?" she asked finally.

"No," he smiled, "I'm not."

"You're not angry with me for what I said?" she wasn't apologizing for it, but she tried not to be rude either.

"No," he shook his head, "I'm not angry. Sad maybe, but not angry."

"Why are you sad?" her voice was laden with concern.

He lead her to a spot where the boardwalk ended and a small patch of beach lay. They sat down and he took off his shoes and removed his tie from around his neck.

"I'm not sad for me, Bones," he said, meeting her gaze, "I'm sad for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Bones, for as long as I've known you you've always had trouble interacting with people- on all sorts of levels."

He paused, as if waiting for a rebuttal, however what he said was true and she could not find fault with it.

"What you said at breakfast," he continued, "I think you meant it, I really do. But I also think that you are using those arguments to distance yourself from me emotionally already," he held up a hand and she kept silent, "What we shared this morning, before breakfast," he grinned slightly, "That was deep and powerful, Bones. For me, it validated that what we have- this bond that somehow works even when it shouldn't- it runs deep. A lot deeper than we think.

"And yeah, the sex part was great," he reached out and caressed her upper arm, "It really was. But more than that it felt _right_, you know, like something that we should've been doing for a long time. Something I could do for the rest of my life and never regret for a second.

"I don't know if it was that or something else, but something made you scared. I know what you do when you are scared, Dr. Temperance Brennan. You throw up walls, your genius-speed brain starts analyzing the whole thing and identifying all of the possible problems, until you finally have enough that you can unload on your unsuspecting victim so much that they push you away so that you don't have to do it to them. You hurt them before they hurt you."

He stopped and moved over to gather her up into a tender embrace.

"You don't have to run any more, Bones," he whispered beside her ear, "I won't hurt you. I won't demand anything more of you than what you are comfortable with, and I would _never_ EVER demean you as a woman."

He pulled back until they were both sitting down again and brushed the lone tear that was burning a path down her cheek.

"Do you realize how proud I am of you, Bones?"

She shook her head, confused.

"You, my dear Temperance, are brilliant," he traced her cheek with his finger, then took her hands into his own, "You are a world-renowned forensic anthropologist, a best-selling author, and the best partner I've ever had. Beauty and brains all wrapped in one package."

She shrugged and blushed, "Intelligence is something you are born with, Booth, not something you achieve."

"True enough," he acknowledged, "But for you to get to where you are from what you were left with as a teenager? Bones, that's not just genetics- that's guts and courage and more strength than most people I know.

"You talked about marriage and men not valuing women as being strong and I can promise you this, Bones. If we ever married, I would never expect you to give up your career, or run the household, or do anything that would make you feel that I saw you as inferior.

" Marriage is all about two people uniting and committing to going through life together. It means I accept you and your weaknesses and you accept me and mine. It means sometimes you cook, and sometimes I cook, and sometimes we eat out."

"That sounds acceptable," she said slowly, "Though we are speaking hypothetically, of course?"

"Of course," he grinned, "Though if you want kids, I can't carry them for you."

She grinned widely, "And why not?"

He looked at his midsection and waggled his eyebrows, "I just don't have it in me."

She threw her head back and laughed, "No you do not!"

"So are we good, Bones?" he asked when her laughter had subsided.

"Yes."

"No more pushing me away?"

"I shall endeavor not to," she told him honestly, "Though it is in my nature to do so unconsciously."

He grinned, standing up and pulling her up with him and into his arms, "Good enough for me, Bones."

He leaned in and kissed her soundly and she responded in kind, letting him know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was committed to their relationship- whatever it ended up becoming.


	19. Chapter 19

Booth was thoroughly enjoying the kiss when his brain registered that they were in public and they should probably not get too hot and heavy. He broke off the kiss with a tender peck and led her back the way they came.

"I do have one question," she said as they walked back up on the boardwalk.

"What's that?"

"Well," she dragged the word out, stalling, "You rarely ever call me by my first or last names as you have your nickname for me already. I suppose it's a term of endearment, really; however, I am at a loss as to what to call you. You once told me that it was okay that I called you Booth because we weren't married. We aren't married, but we are a couple so I was wondering what I should call you?"

Booth thought about that for a long minute as they continued exploring the small village, "You can call me Seeley, Bones, if you want."

"Truly?" she seemed surprised, "I thought you disliked your name."

"It's complicated," he ran his free hand through his hair, sighing, "My grandfather was named Seeley."

"So you are his namesake?"

"I guess," he sighed again, "Don't get me wrong, Bones, my grandfather was a great man. He and I were probably closer than me and my old man. It's just, well-" he looked up at her, hoping she would understand, "The kids at school didn't quite see things that way."

She nodded, laying an understanding hand on his arm, "Children can be very cruel."

"Yeah," his voice was quiet, "They really can be, Bones. Anyway, by the time I was in high school everyone called me Booth so it wasn't a problem. Sometimes I would give people my middle name instead of my first name."

"I don't believe I know your middle name," she smiled kindly at him.

"It's, Ryan," he shrugged, "Guess I always wished that had been my first name and that Seeley was my middle name."

She looked at him for a minute, then shook her head, "The name Ryan does not seem to suit you."

"'Doesn't suit' huh, Temperance," he teased, "That sound's an awful lot like psychology to me."

"It's anthropological," she sniffed haughtily, though he could tell she was teasing right along with him, "Names are very important, you know, Booth? 'Ryan' means 'little king' and while you do have some authority, there is nothing 'little' about you or your presence."

"What would you name me, Bones?" he lifted an eyebrow at her.

"David," she said without hesitation.

"What? Like that wuss guy you met online?" he made a face.

She blushed and he felt bad for making fun of the name she had chosen, "I suppose that was his name- though honestly I hadn't thought of that."

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said softly, "I shouldn't have jumped on you like that."

She shrugged, "It's alright."

They walked in silence for a bit, neither one sure of what to say next.

"So why the name David?" he asked finally.

She blushed even deeper this time, "It's a very masculine name, for one thing, and for another-" she cut off, embarrassment written all over her face.

"Hey," he said gently, "It's okay. I promise I won't make fun."

"It means 'beloved,'" the words came out in a low rush and he barely caught them.

"Aw, gee, thanks, Bones," he wore a grin that stretched from ear to ear, "That's really sweet. You can call me David anytime you want."

"But that's not your given name," she pointed out.

"And 'Bones' is yours?" he teased.

"No," she shook her head, "But it does make some sense given the kind of work that I do. And I have grown used to it over the years. I'll call you Seeley, though, if it doesn't bother you."

"Nope," he shook his head, "It doesn't."

They spent the next hour walking around the various shops that lined the opposite side of the street from the boardwalk. Booth was bored after the third one, but tried hard to keep cheerful around Bones as she oohed and ahhed her way through each store. He noticed that she was especially drawn to the jewelry counter and any displays that contained dolphins.

At the last store they stopped at, something caught Booth's eye and when Bones excused herself to the restroom he knew he had to move fast.

"I'd like to get this," he said to the sales clerk behind the counter.

"Oh that's perfect, sir," the old woman gushed, "Is it for your lady friend?"

"Yeah," he said hurriedly, not wanting Bones to catch him in the act, "Could we ring it up before she gets back?"

"Of course," the woman was all business.

She put Booth's purchases in a small bag and made the transaction quickly and efficiently.

Booth slipped the package into his suit coat pocket just as Bones returned.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Sounds good to me," he replied, then turned to the sales-woman, "Do you have any recommendations for lunch around here?"

"Either the Naughty Gull or CD's Café is good," she suggested, "The Gull is up the road a bit and the Café is right here on the strip. It has a beautiful view of the water."

They thanked her and left, deciding on the café.

"Boo-Seeley," Bones corrected herself quickly, "Why was that women winking at us?"

"Who knows, Bones?" he replied smoothly, "Old women do strange things sometimes."

"Yes," she nodded, "I have observed that myself. Though perhaps she was urged on because of your codpiece."

"A codpiece? Sheesh, Bones," he rolled his eyes while discreetly moving his suit jacket to cover the belt buckle, "You sound like Gordon Gordon. It's a belt buckle."

"The belt buckle is widely acknowledged as a modern codpiece," she pointed out, "And yours _is_ quite provocative. Especially given that a euphemism for male genital is-"

"Hey look, Bones," he interrupted, "There's the restaurant and not a moment too soon. I'm starving, aren't you? Good."

They were seated quickly and ordered right away.

"Personally I find it to be extremely appropriate," Bones picked up where they had left off and continued on, "After all, you are rather sure of yourself and to those who may not know you as well that may come off as cocky, just as your codpiece suggests."

"Belt buckle," he said the words slowly, exaggerating each syllable, "And that, is definitely the pot calling the kettle black there, Bones."

"I don't know what you mean," he could tell that she didn't.

"Bones," he munched his sandwich wondering if she ever got sick of soup, "You can be just as cocky, you know?"

"Perhaps we should get matching belt buckles then," she teased him, "Though for now we should concentrate on finishing our food. We really should leave for DC soon if we wish to avoid rush hour."

Booth glanced at his watch, saw she was right, and nodded in agreement while bolting down the remaining bites of his sandwich. He finished his coke in one gulp and motioned the waiter over for the check.

"I'll pay this time, Seeley," Bones offered.

"Naw," Booth waved her off, "I got it."

"Seeley Ryan Booth," she pointed an accusing finger at him and sounded eerily like his mother when he had gotten into trouble, "You have paid for every single meal we have eaten since we began this trip- not to mention our date the night before last. I have no problem paying for both of us."

"It's just not right," Booth protested.

"That," she said, looking as if she was going to flounce out of the restaurant any minute now, "Is exactly what I meant when I said that men begin to take on unnecessary responsibilities over the women in their lives. Do you think I do not have the money?"

"Of course not, Bones," he stood up and laid a calming hand on her arm, "I know you are way more than capable of paying for the meal."

"Then let me, Seeley," she said, looking deep into his eyes and connecting with them, "Let me do this for us."

He could tell from her voice that this was one of those things that was very important to her. He sighed. Just hours before he had sworn to her that he would never make her feel inferior to him and yet here he was about to do just that. It had seemed a lot easier and a lot more noble at the time.

Going against every grain in his nature he smiled at her and passed her the check, "Here you go, Bones."

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

She paid the bill and they walked back down the boardwalk to the SUV.

"DC here we come," Booth said when they were on their way.

"Indeed," Brennan said, "Though some things have changed significantly since we left."

"Only good things, Bones," Booth assured her, "Only good things."

He flipped around the radio until he found an oldies station and grinned as Sam Cooke's voice carried them toward home and reminded them what a wonderful world it could be when you're in love.


	20. Chapter 20

Booth- no, Seeley, she corrected herself- dropped her off at her apartment and promised to call her when he returned home. Weary from the trip she nodded and allowed him to help her bring her things up, then bid him goodbye and watched him walk all the way to the elevator until the doors closed on his wide smile. Closing her own door she walked over and collapsed onto her couch, weary from the past several days' events.

Had it only been Saturday that she had danced here with Booth? That they had kissed for the first time since the mistletoe?

Then Sunday, just two days ago, they had gone out on a date. When she closed her eyes she could picture the whole thing as if it were taking place right in front of her: the meal, the dancing, and afterward falling asleep with Booth beside her in her bed.

Monday had been a flurry of events that began with a new case and ended in new love. She had come to admit that love was what she felt for her long-time partner and friend. Once she had feared that change, now, though, she found that it was not as dangerous as she once thought. And while she realized that the euphoria she was experiencing was temporary, she wanted to believe Booth when he told her that it was something that could last a lifetime.

This morning, the bond that they hadalways shared had been deepened that and their relationship would never be she had been given time enough this morning the fear had started to rise. And so she had done what she always did; she had pushed him away with her rant on marriage and its degradation of women. Any other man would have been hurt by her words and eventually would have left- Seeley Booth was not just any other man. He was a man who knew her well and who, instead of being hurt by her, hurt for her. Calmly and gently he had talked with her, assuring her of his love while informing her that he knew exactly what she was trying to do to him.

Her doorbell chimed, bringing her out of her reverie. She smiled; perhaps Booth had decided to come back after all.

"Sweetie," Angela was halfway through the door already and assaulted Brennan as soon as she was all the way in, "How are you? We never got to chat about that date so I figured I'd bring over dinner and you could tell me all about it." She caught Brennan's uncertain look and reversed course, "Unless, of course, you've already got dinner plans. Then you just let me know and I'll jet out and you can tell me all about it later."

Brennan laughed, "No one's coming. Well, I'm not expecting anyone at least. Come in, please. And to answer your question, I'm doing well."

"You," Angela said, handing Brennan a carton of Chinese food as they made themselves comfortable on the couch, "Have had sex!"

"Ange!"

"It's true," her friend squealed, "So was it on Sunday with that hot date of yours? Is that why you were so bleary-eyed yesterday when you came by the lab?"

"No," Brennan shook her head, wondering why she had not disclosed Booth's identity to her friend from the beginning, "It wasn't Sunday."

"I can't believe it," the artist gasped, "I mean, I knew that you would come around eventually. Well, that or you would explode from all the UST you were carrying around. But I still can't believe that you did it! And what about this guy you when out with on Sunday? Was he that bad?"

"You're not making any sense, Ange," Brennan shook her head.

"You slept with Booth," Angela enunciated every word slowly, "I know it. You can't deny it. It's the only thing that explains everything. Except why you went out with the other schmuck on Sunday."

"Yes," Brennan realized it was time for her to elucidate, "I slept with Booth. Sunday night, in fact, we shared a bed after he brought me home from the date; though we did not make love until this morning."

"You _think_ that you are making things clear, Sweetie," Angela rested a hand on Brennan's shoulder, "But really you might as well be speaking a different language because I didn't understand a word you just said. Except that Booth took you home at some point and this morning was the sex. What happened, Bren? Did your knight in standard issue body armor have to rescue you from your date?"

"No," Brennan shook her head, "He _was_ my date, Ange. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but I didn't want anyone to know in case it didn't work out."

"No problem," the artist waved a hand, "But I want details. All the gooey ones- and if you leave something out I will hound Booth for the missing details."

It was nine thirty-five at night before Angela left, having been sated by all of the details of her friend's weekend. Brennan lost count of the number of times she was embraced that night, but she smiled through it all and allowed her friend to convey the emotions she herself had troubles accessing. Angela bid her goodnight and promised to see her in the morning.

Once again, Brennan fell onto her couch wearily. After a few minutes she pulled herself up and began getting ready for bed. She had just settled down and turned off the lights when the phone rang.

She swore, wondering who could be calling her at this hour, "Brennan," she snapped into the phone, swearing again as she turned on the light and temporarily blinded herself.

"Hi, Bones," Booth's voice calmed her instantly, "Sorry to call so late but I did want to get back to you. I ended up having a lot more to do when I got home than I thought."

Brennan relaxed against her pillow, the faint scent of Booth still on the sheets beside her, "That's alright. Angela was here earlier and stayed for quite awhile."

"She found us out, huh?" she could hear the laugh in his voice.

"In less than five minutes," she laughed too, "She's a very difficult woman to hide things from- though I was relieved that she did not hold my deception concerning our date against me. That could have ended badly."

"Nah," he scoffed lightly, "Ange wouldn't be mad at you for too long, Bones. Though I'm sure she pressed you for all the juicy details."

Brennan blushed, glad that he could not see her on the other side of the phone, "Yes. She did."

"That's okay, Bones," he assured her, "You need to have your girl talks. Just don't make me look bad, okay?"

"Never," she promised, "I would never speak ill of you, Seeley Booth."

"Still hard for you to call me by my first name isn't it?" he asked.

"It is different," she admitted, "It feels very intimate."

"We were intimate," he reminded her.

"I know."

"I miss you, tonight, Temperance," he said softly, "I wish you were here in my arms again."

"I could be," she offered.

"It's late," he said, "And I bet you are already in bed."

"How did you know?"

"Well for one," she could hear the smile in his voice, "You nearly took my head off when I called. Were you asleep?"

"No."

"Lights out?"

"Yes."

"And yet you were offering to come over here?"

She shrugged even though he couldn't see her, "It's not like I haven't gotten up in the middle of the night before to go somewhere. You sounded like you needed me."

"I'll be okay, Bones," he told her, "What I need is my forensic anthropologist well-rested so that she can do her job tomorrow."

"I will be," she mumbled trying to stifle a yawn.

"Go to sleep, Bones," he told her.

"I'm not that tired."

"You just yawned. You barely got any sleep last night and we were out late the night before. You've got to be exhausted by now."

"You could come and tuck me in," she wasn't sure where the invitation had come from, though she did know that she was craving his presence.

"I'll be there first thing in the morning," he promised.

"That won't help me tonight."

"Go to sleep," he ordered her again, "Morning will come faster that way."

"You are bossy, Seeley Booth," she informed him, feeling her body begging her to close her eyes and surrender to sleep while another part of her did not want to break the connection.

"And you are stubborn, Temperance Brennan," he countered, "Now go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay, Booth," she agreed sleepily, "I'll see you at the lab."

"I'm coming to pick you up," he reminded her.

"Yeah, that too."

"Should I bring breakfast?"

"I have coffee, I think," she searched her mind but could not remember.

"I'll bring something," he said, "You rarely have edible food around there anyway."

"You like my mac and cheese," she argued.

"Yes I do, but you rarely keep real food around the house."

"I have food," she knew she was being irrational but she was so tired she didn't care.

"You have cartons of take-out."

"You're mean."

"You're tired."

"Maybe."

"Definitely," he said, "Now go to bed, Bones, or I might not bring you breakfast tomorrow."

"Will it be breakfast in bed?" she wanted to know.

"Not if we want to get to work on time."

"That would not be good."

"No, it wouldn't, Bones. Now go to sleep."

"Okay," she was going to fall asleep soon anyway and some rational corner of her mind said it would be rude to fall asleep on the phone, "Good night, Special Agent Seeley Ryan Booth."

"Good night, Doctor Temperance Brennan."

"I love you, Booth."

"I love you too, Bones."

She heard him hang up the phone and followed suit, turning off the lights once more. The last thing she remembered was moving over to the opposite side of the bed to engulf herself in Booth's faint scent.


	21. Chapter 21

Booth stood outside his girlfriend's door and hesitated. It was six-thirty in the morning and while he had promised Bones he would come for breakfast he wasn't sure how early he was expecting him. In an hour and a half they needed to be at the Jeffersonian and he didn't want to make them late. At the same time, there was no noise coming from inside the apartment. He had tried knocking softly but there was no response and he was hesitant to ring the doorbell.

Playing a hunch he tried opening the door. It was unlocked and he shook his head and walked in. The apartment was as silent as a tomb and he could see the empty cartons that were left out from her visit from Angela. Without thinking, he began to pick up the trash and throw it away. That done, he checked the clock. Bones needed to get up now so that they would have time for her to get ready and for them to eat breakfast and still not be late for work.

Cautiously, he slipped off his shoes and crept down the small hallway, thankful that the door had been left slightly ajar. Bones was curled up on the side of the bed that he'd slept on the last time he was here and had a small smile on her face. He hated to wake her up, but he knew she would not be pleased if he let her oversleep either.

"Bones," he whispered, kneeling on the floor beside where she was sleeping, "Time to get up."

She grunted and rolled over onto her other side.

Next, he tried tapping her, but she swatted at him and remained asleep. Deciding that desperate times called for desperate measures, he climbed up on the bed beside her, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

To his surprise, she not only returned the kiss with fervor, but also wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself toward him. Then she began thrusting her hips into his, deepening the kiss with every movement. He groaned when her fingers made contact with his bare skin as she began reaching her hands up his shirt.

"Bones," he rasped, "We have to go to work."

"I'll be quick," she promised.

Her hands moved from his chest to his waistline and he was lost. He tore off her pajamas as she removed his pants, shorts, and shirt in quick order. The two merged into one, pleasing each other rapidly and passionately. When it was over, they basked in the afterglow.

"You came, Seeley," she whispered into his chest as he lay heaving beside her.

"Always, Temperance," he smiled, cupping her face in his hands for a tender kiss, "Though this wasn't exactly my original plan."

"Good thing you're flexible," she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, "Though I must say I've never been awakened in quite that fashion before."

"Yeah," he grinned, "You know, the prince woke Sleeping Beauty with a kiss too, but I'm pretty sure she didn't jump him."

She laid a trail of light kisses down his bare chest, "That's just a fairy tale, Seeley. This is real life."

"Yes," he agreed, sucking in a breath and trying not to think about how much her raspy, morning voice whispering his name turned him on, "And in real life we both have a morning meeting to get to very soon.

He watched her look at her clock and gasp at the time. They needed to leave in five minutes if they wanted to be on time. She leapt out of bed and threw his clothes at him from off of the floor as she scurried around to gather her own clothes.

"Why are you just sitting there, Booth?" she demanded breathlessly.

He stretched and rolled off of the bed lazily, smiling at how she switched to his surname when she was upset at him. As she scrambled around, freshening herself and putting on her makeup he slid back into his clothes and headed out to the kitchen.

Less than two minutes later she flew out of the room and was herding him out the door, acting extremely flustered.

"Do you have everything?" he asked, stopping her just before she shut the door to the apartment.

She glanced through the bag she had slung over her shoulder and nodded, taking off for the elevator.

"Bones," he called her back, pointing, "You forgot to close the door."

She hurried back and turned to leave again.

"Bones," he took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him, "Take a deep breath. We've got more than enough time to make it to the lab. Now, lock your door and make sure that you haven't forgotten anything important."

She locked the door and looked once more through her bag, "I believe the only thing I'm missing is a lunch."

"No problem," he took her hand and led her to the elevator, "We can go to the diner."

"I may not have time to go out," she told him, "The inspection of the bones might very well take all afternoon and into the evening."

"Then I'll bring lunch by," he replied easily, "And don't even bother to tell me you won't have time for that because it won't work any better now than it has in the past."

"The first day's worth of paperwork will be horrendous," she continued as they got in the SUV and headed out.

Booth passed her the coffee he had picked up, along with a chocolate donut with chocolate icing, "Eat up," he urged.

"We should have gone back in yesterday to at least get some of the paperwork filled out," she lamented with a mouthful of food, "This could be an extremely long day."

"First day normally is- even when we do get the crime scene paperwork done ahead of time," he turned to face her as the stopped at a red light, "You know, Bones, you don't have to apologize for or try and explain your job demands to me. I've been your partner for four years now- I know the crazy office hours you keep."

That seemed to calm her down and she met his gaze, "A few of the men I've dated have had problems with the hours I keep," she explained, "I've found it very difficult to try and explained to them and even when I have been successful in explaining not many have been understanding."

"You work in a highly specialized field, Bones," Booth weaved in and out of traffic, glad that it was relatively light for once, "But believe me, if anyone gets your job, I do. I'd never make you choose me over work, or make you feel guilty for doing your job. Besides, I get to work with you when you aren't playing Bone Whisperer so I'm not complaining."

"That's the second time you've used that moniker for me," she pointed out, "Is that in reference to the Dog Whisperer?"

"Hey! You knew what that meant," he teased, "And yup, you do to bones what Caesar Milano does to dogs."

"Bones don't have to be told to be silent or to lay down," she sounded confused.

"Nope, but you can get things out of them that nobody else can," he swung the SUV up to the Jeffersonian parking lot and took his normal space.

"Thank you, Booth."

"Hey, that was Seeley talking," he winked at her, "Booth's just a dumb cop so what would he know?"

"I see," she smiled, "So you have two separate identities now?"

"Why not?" he asked, "Booth is the one you go to work with; Seeley's the one that you bed. You can be Bones and Temperance."

She shook her head incredulously, "I definitely do not understand you sometimes. So who are you now: Booth or Seeley?"

"Well, I guess I'll have to be Booth now that we're at work."

She nodded, satisfied, "Will Booth give Seeley a message for me?"

"Sure, Bones," he grinned, enjoying the conversation.

She kissed him full on the lips, "Tell him Temperance will see him after work."

She jumped out of the car and was already well on her way before he finished processing what had just taken place.

He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, watching as she paused to answer it.

"Brennan," she answered, as always not checking the caller ID.

"Hey, Bones," he said, hopping out and moving to catch up with her, "Tell Temperance I'll be waiting."

She smiled and their fingers brushed as he caught up with her. She kept a light hold on his fingertips and he didn't complain one bit.

As soon as they hit the front steps their fingers separated and it was business as usual. They had made it on time for Cam's morning meeting and Booth tried his best to listen as the pathologist briefed them on what had been done in their absence. Both Booth and Bones ignored Angela's sly looks until the artist finally realized that they weren't going to crack and gave up. Thankfully, the other squints didn't catch on and the meeting ran smoothly and was finished in under an hour.

As she had requested, the major inspection of the bones had been left for Dr. Brennan and she set right to work after the morning meeting. Knowing that he would be bored out of his mind if he hung out at the lab all day while she ran over the bones with a fine-toothed comb, he excused himself and headed over to the Hoover Building. Unfortunately, she hadn't been exaggerating about the paperwork and he knew if he would be better off getting a jump on it now before it really started to pile up.

Three hours later he was more bored than he had been during Cam's briefing and he gathered up the paperwork he still had to do and went back to the Jeffersonian.

He stopped by the forensic platform where Bones and her grad assistant were huddled over the remains and informed her that he would be in her office and would bodily drag her off of the platform if she didn't come eat the lunch he brought with him in the next hour. She waved him off and he settled himself on the couch in her office.

"Hey, Boothy," a voice cut into his work.

It was Angela, leaning on the doorframe.

"Hey," he waved.

"Was that sex in the morning that I smelled on you two at the meeting?" she asked coyly, coming in the door.

"Yes, and don't you tease Bones about it either," he leveled a finger at her.

"Booth," she got serious for a moment, "I know which things to bring up around her- and which ones to bring up with you," the teasing glint returned to her eyes, "I also know that I left a bit too late last night for you two to have a sleepover."

He nodded, satisfied, "I am a happy man."

"I'm sure you are, Dear," she patted his arm, then turned for the door, "You know," she said over her shoulder, "I always do recommend a quickie in the morning. It's nearly as good for you as a daily vitamin and _way_ more fun!"

No sooner had Angela left, then Bones came through the door, peeling off her gloves and moving over toward Booth.

"What did Ange want?" she asked.

"She wanted to congratulate us," he said smoothly, figuring it was as close to the truth as he wanted to get.

"I'm sure," she replied, though her eyes told him she really wasn't.

"Take a load off, Bones," he invited, patting the cushion next to him.

"No thank you," she shook her head, "I need to eat and get back out to the remains."

"I'm surprised you are taking a break at all."

She ducked her I head, "I was concerned that you might follow through on your vow to bodily remove me from the platform."

"I might have too," he teased, then pointed to her desk, "Your lunch is over there.

She thanked him and they ate in companionable silence. In many ways, today was like all of the other days had been before they started dating. She ate at her desk, he on the couch- both of them poring over paperwork but enjoying the company all the same.

"I'm going back," Bones announced, coming over to the couch and laying a hand on his arm that was resting on the back of it.

"Okay, Bones," he said around a mouthful of food, "Lemme know if you find anything interesting."

She nodded, then seemed unsure of what to do next.

"Come 'ere," he gestured her to move closer.

She leaned forward and he wiped a little bit of mustard off of the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

"I love you," he whispered just before she stood back up.

She smiled shyly and nodded, then slipped her lab coat back on and headed back to the platform.

Booth stretched back out on the couch, finished his lunch, and called Cullen to see if he was needed at the Hoover building. Cullen informed him that the FBI had no new leads in the case and ordered him to stay at the Jeffersonian and get the report from Dr. Brennan first-hand.

Booth had no trouble with those orders so after he hung up, he grabbed his stack of paperwork that still remained, and settled in for a long wait.


	22. Chapter 22

Brennan peeled off her latex gloves and sighed. It had been a long day.

After attending Cam's meeting, her morning had been spent with the remains. The team had spent yesterday inventorying all of the bones she had unearthed and laying them out on the forensic platform. The only thing that wasn't present on the stainless steel table was the skull. That they had placed in a separate room, leaving the numerous fragments for her to reconstruct after her initial overview of the bones.

She had finished the overview around the time that Booth had come with her lunch. She knew from it that the victim was female, between twenty-five and thirty years of age, with markers of the beginnings of rheumatoid arthritis. Over lunch she had completed most of the paperwork for the skeletal overview so that she would be free to work on the skull afterward.

Of course, lunch had also rejuvenated her in more than a nutritional sense. Booth's whispered affirmation of his affections had refreshed her. She had returned to the forensic platform, finished the overview, and began piecing together the skull around one o'clock.

She glanced at her watch. Eight hours had passed but she was only mildly surprised. Most skull reconstructions took several hours and this one had been no different. She had recovered one hundred and thirty-eight skull fragments from sand at the crime scene, some only as big as the tip of her thumb. It was like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle when you only had a vague idea of what the finished picture would look like. And one where all of the pieces had been splintered into even tinier pieces.

It appeared that she had recovered all but the most minuscule of pieces and the tale they told once she had them all together was one of extreme violence and rage. After the skull was complete she had taken another hour at least to photograph and place the tissue markers for Angela.

Fours years ago, she would have continued working through the night, pushing herself to the brink of exhaustion, then catching a few hours sleep before the cleaning crew came through the lab at five and woke her. Three years ago, she would have worked even harder, just to prove to Booth that she was right and his gut was wrong- though more often she was the one proven wrong. Two years ago, as well as this past year, she had worked as hard as she could as fast as she could, knowing that Booth would not allow her to work past eleven. He jokingly called it her curfew.

Technically she still had two hours left before Booth would intervene and take her out for dinner before he took her home. But she was weary from the day's work and for the past half-hour her eyes had been closing involuntarily. The wisest course of action seemed to be to go home now, get a good night's sleep, and start fresh in the morning.

Gently she opened her office door. Some nights Booth was still awake doing paperwork, while other times he was asleep on the couch.

"Hey, Bones," he smiled, looking up from a graphic novel, "What'cha got for me?"

She gave him all of the information that she had collected so far, noting that the woman had given birth more than once and that all indicators pointed to the head wound as cause of death. Because of her fatigue she had not thoroughly examined the skull and promised she would have a more detailed report, and possibly a face from Angela, by tomorrow.

"So what now?" he asked, patting the seat cushion next to him.

She sat down, noting that he put his arm around her shoulder and shifting over into his embrace.

"Dinner," she replied, "I'm very hungry, Seeley."

"Seeley, eh?" he grinned, standing up and pulling her up with him, "So does that mean we're off duty now, Temperance?"

She smiled and shrugged, then walked over to the coat rack to collect her things, stopping by her desk to shovel her paperwork into her shoulder bag. By the time she turned around to get her coat he had his on and was holding hers open for her.

"Thank you," she said, slipping one arm in and then the next, "So where are we going for dinner?"

"I was thinking Thai," he answered, turning out the lights and motioning her to go through the door ahead of him.

"I don't know," she moved to lock her office door, "We did just have that on Saturday."

"And that turned out _very_ good," he smiled.

"Yes," she agreed as they walked out of the warm building and out into the cool night air, "But I am still not hungry for Thai, tonight."

"How about Chinese?"

"Those are still Asian flavors," she shook her head.

"Sid's?"

"Still Asian."

They climbed into the car in tandem, though Booth sat in the driver's seat still trying to determine where they should go.

"Diner?"

"No," the thought of all that grease turned her stomach tonight.

"What about that new bar we've tried out a couple of times?" he asked hopefully.

"The bar's alright for a drink now and then I suppose," she said, "But I'm not sure they have much of a dinner menu. Besides the ambiance there pales in comparison to Wong Fu's or the Royal Diner."

"What the-" he looked at her, his brow furrowing in frustration, "What does 'ambiance' have to do with having dinner?"

"I was just saying," she felt herself growing defensive, "That the bar is not as aesthetically pleasing as the diner or Sid's. If neither of them sounded suitable to my palate, I certainly wouldn't think it would be satisfied by a bar!"

"Well then what would be 'suitable' to your oh-so-picky 'palate' tonight?" his tone was mocking.

"I don't know, Booth," she was exasperated, "Or I would have _told_ you by now. All I know is that I'm hungry and tired and not in the mood for prepared food."

He started to reply in kind, but stopped and placed a hand on her thigh, "Look, Bones, I'm sorry, okay? I'm tired too."

"Perhaps you should just drop me off at my apartment, Booth," she sighed, "I'll find something to eat there."

He snorted and she glared at him.

"Look," he held up his hands as if in surrender, "Why don't I take you to my place and make you the world-famous Seeley Booth omelet?"

"World-famous?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he put the key in the ignition and started the SUV, "You haven't lived until you taste it."

"However have I survived?" she asked dryly.

"Definitely not from the food at your place," he teased.

She shoved him gently, "I'll have you know, Seeley Booth that the reason I don't have any 'edible food' as you so graciously call it, is because my normal shopping day is Mondays."

"And we got called out on the case?" he pulled out into traffic, heading toward his townhouse.

"Exactly," she nodded her head curtly, "And Tuesday I spent-"

"The morning in bed with me," he supplied smugly.

"Yes," she replied with a coy smile, "And today I was at the lab. I fully intend to rectify the situation tomorrow," she assured him, "Though I admit I'm not sure exactly when."

"Tomorrow morning," he stated rather than suggested, "You can call Cam, tell her an emergency came up so you'll be in a little late, and then go shopping."

"I hardly think that a lack of food qualifies as an emergency," she protested.

"It will be if you don't eat," he pointed out.

"Is this because we are dating and you feel a sense of obligation toward my well-being?" she asked, "Because I am an adult and perfectly capable of taking care of my own eating schedule."

"Bones," he shot her a look that suggested he was being longsuffering, "Your 'eating schedule' consists of whatever food I bring you throughout the day and force you to pause and eat. I'm not saying that you can't eat well or that you don't when you aren't on a case- 'cause I know you cook a mean mac 'n' cheese. But nine out of ten times when I'm at your place during a case you don't have any food in the fridge and all you eat is take-out. Believe you me, I would make the same demands even if we were still just partners."

"Everyone's got to eat?" she repeated the argument that he always used when she refused to get food with him, silently conceding that this protective behavior of his truly was nothing new.

"Now, see?" he grinned, pulling into his driveway, "You_ have_ been listening to me all along!"

She shook her head, wondering why she bothered arguing with him in the first place, as well as what exactly a "world-famous Seeley Booth omelet" tasted like.


	23. Chapter 23

Booth came around the other side of the SUV and offered Bones his elbow. She accepted with a small smile and they walked up to his front door. For some reason he felt a slight nervousness as he opened the door and let her in. Almost all of their one-on-one time was spent either in her apartment or her office. Outside of her barging in on him after his "death" he could not think of a time that she had been over to his house.

In some ways, he mused as he turned on the lights and ushered Bones back to the living room, he was as private as she was- if not more. He knew that if he really wanted this relationship to last any length of time there were certain issues that he would have to share with her- things he had once vowed he would hide from everyone.

"Is this your family?" she asked, pointing at an older picture that hung on the living room wall.

Of course she would start with one of the harder issues, "Yup. That's me, Jared and my sister, Lizzy."

She turned to him surprised, "I was expecting you to have more siblings than that the way you spoke about Catholics having large families the other night."

"It was big enough," he muttered under his breath, then said aloud, "Nope, just the three of us."

"Do you see them often?"

"Sometimes," he answered truthfully, "My sister usually has a big shindig at her house every Thanksgiving. We have sixteen cousins just on the Booth side so things get a little bit crazy sometimes."

He watched her eyes widen as he told her about the many cousins, remembering that she had grown up with virtually no family at all.

"That," she said finally, "Is a large family after all."

He nodded, "Christmas was chaos some years."

"I can only imagine. Do you still attend the family get-togethers?"

"Some years," he shrugged, turning to go toward the kitchen, "Right now, though, I'm ready for dinner with my favorite forensic anthropologist."

"And best-selling author," she teased, seeming to not notice that he was changing the subject before she could ask him about his parents.

On entering the kitchen, he felt himself relax and become more at ease with her and with himself. He wasn't the most talented chef out there, but he enjoyed cooking and for the most part did a fairly decent job. Cooking for his Bones was an added bonus.

"Now," he said, pulling out three eggs and juggling them in the air, "The key to a good omelet is for it to be light and fluffy, but at the same time filling. Eggs aren't necessarily comfort food, but if you do an omelet right, it can be."

"Does the juggling add anything or are you just showing off because you are trying to impress me?"

"A good chef," he winked at her, catching all of the eggs and breaking them into a bowl, "Never reveals his secrets."

She rolled her eyes, perching on one of the barstools that he had around the kitchen's small island. The island was one of his favorite features in the house and it looked perfect with her sitting at it as if she had been there all along. He put on the pan to warm up, then set about hunting down all of the ingredients that he needed.

"You know, Bones," he said as he was digging things out of his fridge, "I'm not sure it's safe for you to be in here."

He was rewarded with a quizzical look from her and he dumped an armload of vegetables and cheeses on the island.

"I mean," he grinned, "The contents of the world-famous Seeley Booth omelet are a heavily-guarded secret. Can't have just anybody knowing how it's made."

"That would be a tragedy, indeed," her voice was dripping with sarcasm, "I suppose I'll go wander the house then."

"No," he said a little quicker and sharper than he wanted to and softened his tone immediately, "Stay. I think I can trust you," he winked so that she would know he was not upset with her.

She settled back down on the stool and watched as sliced and diced all of the ingredients and added them to the eggs. He poured the mixture into the pan, waited for it to cook on the first side, and was happy when it flipped over easily. He added the slices of cheese that he'd prepared, folded it into the eggs, making it look like a sandwich, and cooked it for another minute on either side until the cheese had melted just right.

He put the finished omelet on a plate, took the pan off of the burner, and set the finished plate in front of her complete with knife and fork. She reached for it, smiling, but he stopped her.

"Uh uh," he chided softly, coming over to sit on the stool beside her and reclaiming the fork, "The world-famous Seeley Booth omelet requires a special touch to be eaten correctly."

"Really, Seeley?" she arched an eyebrow, not buying his line for a second.

"Oh yeah, Temperance," he assured her, continuing on as if she were falling for everything hook, line, and sinker, "It's best when served by the chef himself."

"Then by all means," she bowed her head, teasing him with her eyes, and opening her mouth in anticipation.

He swallowed the lump that had suddenly jumped into his throat at the sight of her soft, moist lips parting and cut a small corner off for her. Praying that he wouldn't make a fool of himself and miss her mouth altogether or stab her with the fork by accident, he carefully navigated the omelet into her mouth.

And just like at the small diner where she had fed him her chocolate cake, a reverent hush fell over both of them and the only thing he was aware of was her lips gently tugging the bite off of the fork. After a long second she released it and began chewing with her eyes closed.

"That," she breathed when she was done, "Was delicious."

He grinned smugly until she snatched the fork from his hand, "Hey!"

"Seeley," she said matter-of-factly, "I'm tired and hungry and need food now. If you continue feeding me we will make love. Which will sate me, but not in the area that I need right now."

He laughed and kissed her lightly on the forehead, then moved around to the stove side of the island again and began preparing his own omelet.

"So you like it?" he asked casually, adding the rest of the ingredients that he had chopped into the eggs he had just cracked.

She nodded enthusiastically, mouth full of omelet.

"You are very adept at preparing breakfast foods," she said when she had swallowed her last bite, "First you make pancakes and now, this. I can see why your omelet is world-famous."

"It's mostly just famous in Parker's world," he admitted, shrugging, "Drives Rebecca nuts 'cause she couldn't make an omelet to save her life."

"It's probably best that there are very few situations that would require one to do that in order to live," she said, though he couldn't tell whether she was being literal or teasing him.

"Yeah," he decided that was a safe answer, "Parker loves to make pancakes when he comes over too."

"I would imagine you two enjoy that greatly," she smiled, "Especially if you put the chocolate chips in for him as you did for me."

"Oh yeah," he nodded, "That's his favorite part. Well, that and when I make Mickey Mouse pancakes."

She nodded, her eyes seeming distant as if she was remembering something from a long time ago.

"My mother used to do that for us," she recalled, "She would also make ones in the shape of a 'T' for me and an 'R' for Russ. She would always make four 'B'-shaped ones as well so that we would each have one."

"That sounds like a good memory, Bones," he smiled at her, "My mom did letter pancakes for us too. I don't think she ever made 'Bs' though. You know, I have forgotten about that until now. I'll have to make 'Ps' for Parker on Saturday."

"And 'Bs' for both of you Booth boys," she smiled back.

It was nice to see her find a happy childhood memory that didn't upset her in the end.

"And for Brennan," he added, "Or Bones."

She nodded, then looked up at him, "Does that mean that I will be here on Saturday morning as well?"

Booth shrugged, taking his plate and hers over to his small dishwasher and beginning to clean up the dinner mess, "That's up to you, Bones. I talked to Parker this afternoon and told him we were dating now and he asked if you could come over. I told him I'd run it by you and get back to him."

"You told him?" she seemed surprised, but came over to help him clean up.

"Well, yeah, Bones, it's not like you can hide that kind of stuff from a kid anyway," he pointed out, "Not that I'd want to."

"I didn't mean to imply that you should be dishonest with him," she assured him, "I was just surprised that you told him so soon. And you may tell him that I would be happy to come over for breakfast, though I don't wish to intrude on your time with him."

"Spending time with you is never an intrusion," he said, kissing her hair and reaching over to rinse the dishes she was washing, "And Parker's the one who asked."

They finished the dishes and headed back to the living room. She sat down on the couch and he joined her, pulling her into his arms. Booth extended the footrest from the bottom of the couch and they slipped off their shoes, stretching out together. He smiled broadly as she scooted closer to his so that their legs would all fit on the footrest.

"Booth," Bones started slowly, turning her face to look at him, "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course," he moved a stray lock of hair from in front of her eyes.

She smiled before asking, "Why does Parker share your surname? I only wonder because most mothers choose to pass along their own surname unless they are engaged or married to the father. If that is too personal, however," she gave him a solemn look, "Do not feel as if you are obligated to answer it."

"No," he smiled down at her, "It would be confusing given Rebecca's and my patchy history," he turned his body so that he could give her his full attention, "When we found out about Parker- well, you know she refused to marry me, and for a while she wouldn't even speak to me. By the time he was born, though, we had patched things up for the most part and had even been able to discuss custody arrangements without it dissolving into a screaming match.

"The day he was born she called me at work to let me know it was a boy and that he was healthy. She said she had named him Parker Aaron; Aaron was her dad's name, but I still have no clue where she got the name Parker from. Anyway," he ran his fingers through his hair, remembering all of the emotions that he had gone through that day, "When I finally got to the hospital there he was- the tiniest little person that I'd ever seen. She laid him in my arms and told me that he looked just like me, and that she had given him my last name. She said every boy deserved to have the same last name as his father.

"We've still fought over custody and stuff like that over the years; but I've never forgotten what a gift that seemed like at the time. I think if he'd been a girl she would've given the baby her name," he smiled wryly, "So in more than one way I'm happy to have a son."

She nodded, "I am happy for you. I've seen the joy he brings to you and it must be a comfort knowing that your line will not end once you die."

He laughed gently, "I'm not sure I ever thought about it that way, but yeah, I'm glad that my son shares my name. Kind of makes up for-" he stopped, not sure she would understand or how to phrase it so he wouldn't sound like he was complaining.

"Not being in his life every day?" she asked.

He nodded mutely, relieved that she understood him so well.

"Seeley Booth," she stroked his face with a tenderness that he had only seen displayed a few times, "I've seen you with your son. He loves _you_ Seeley, not the things you do with him or the time you spend with him. It is not as if you are the only unmarried father in DC, and I am certain there are children in his peer group that spend as much, if not less, time with their own fathers. He has never seemed to begrudge you the time that you spend away from him.

"You're a good father, Seeley," earnestness was written all over her face, "Much better than my own was."

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her on the lips.

"Don't sell your dad short, though," he said when they parted, "He did the best he could for you."

"He was a criminal," she reminded him, "And a murderer at that."

"So was I, Bones," he said softly, "It was sanctioned by the government, yes, but I still made the final decision to end those men's lives. Would you have my son hold that against me?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, pulling back slightly from their embrace, "But my father is different."

"How, Bones?" he knew she still held her father at an arm's length, "He made some bad choices, yes, and he paid the ultimate price for it. I can't imagine the guts and strength it took for him to leave you and Russ without saying goodbye but you have to accept that he did it to save you, Temperance. And he paid the ultimate price for his poor choices when you mom died.

"As for the people he murdered? Those men would have killed you and Russ and probably even taken a shot at me if he hadn't killed them first. You owe your dad your life, Bones. Several times over."

She looked at him as if she had never considered that perspective before. He knew a year ago she would not have even considered his argument. But she had grown a lot since then, and her heart was far less guarded than it had been then as well.

They lay together in silence until her head started nodding and her eyes closed for minutes at a time. He felt her breathing even out as she fell asleep curled up inside of his embrace. Gently he disentangled himself from her and stood, thankful when she did not wake up. Dimming the lights, he locked the front door and opened the dishwasher so that the dishes would dry by the morning.

Coming back into the living room, he bent over and lifted her up into his arms. She shifted slightly, then wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Carefully, he carried her up the narrow stairway and down the hallway into his bedroom.

"Never seen this room before," she murmured with a smile when he placed her on the bed.

"Yeah well, I'm sure you would have if I'd have been asleep and not in the bathtub," he winked at her.

"Most likely," she agreed, her eyes closing again.

"Here," he handed he a soft shirt from one of his drawers, "This'll be more comfortable those work clothes."

She sat up groggily and he helped her peel her clothes off layer by layer, grinning widely when she was in nothing but her underwear. She shook her head, slipped on the shirt, bringing her bra along with her arm when she pushed it through the sleeve.

"That was pretty tricky, Bones" he was impressed.

"Any woman worth her salt can do that," she shrugged, "At least that's what Angela says."

He laughed, pulling off his own clothes and joining her under the covers, "I don't doubt it one bit."

He turned off the lights and turned to tell her good night, but she was fast asleep, her back toward him. He kissed the back of her hair, wrapped his arms firmly around her, and laid his head down on his pillow. It felt good to hold her in his own bed and he hoped he could eventually persuade her to stay with him there every night for the rest of their lives.

"I love you, Temperance," he whispered just before he closed his own eyes and joined her in sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

She awakened the next morning and immediately knew two things: it was fairly early, perhaps six, and she was not in her own bed. Upon further inspection, she determined that this was not a bed she had _ever_ slept in before, though its scent was extremely familiar.

The last thing she remembered was being curled up with Booth on his couch, discussing her father. She must have fallen asleep soon after that and been transported to his bed. She also must have slept soundly because she felt refreshed and renewed, without any of the soreness she had felt last night after hours of hunching over her lab table. Looking down under the covers she discovered that her clothes had been taken off and replaced with a large t-shirt that must be Booth's.

The man himself, however, was not to be seen. Hearing running water down the hall she went to investigate. As she neared the bathroom, she heard a voice, singing rather off-key. Quietly, she opened the door, slipped off the few clothes she had on, and opened the shower curtain.

"Bones!" he jumped, his voice an octave higher than normal, "What is it with you and freaking me out in my own bathroom?"

"I thought you might want company," she explained, "Though if you want me to leave…"

"Oh no you don't," he laid a wet hand on her bare arm, sending shivers up her spine.

She smiled and stepped in beside him, closing the shower curtain behind her. She noted that he was covered in soap from head to toe. She watched, mesmerized, as he put his head back, stepping into the shower and letting the water cascade down his sculpted front. The water ran in channels from him, rinsing away the soap and leaving his skin to gleam clean and bright.

"Whatcha' lookin' at, there, Dr. Temperance Brennan?" he asked when he had finished rinsing off.

"A very handsome FBI Agent," she answered, letting her hands slip up and down his smooth, wet chest.

"That's, a _Special_ Agent," he corrected her, closing the distance between them and moving around until she was the one beneath the water. He moved in and kissed her deeply.

He was kissing her still when she felt his arms snake around her, which was not altogether shocking. What did surprise her was when he detached his lips from hers and switched their positions yet again, this time turning her around once she was out of the water so that she was now facing the wall. She gasped as he placed his palms on her, the soap lathering as his hands moved in concentric circles along her back.

Next, he turned her around again, cleaning the front of her and clearly enjoying himself. She wasn't complaining either. He moved to the side and let her go around him and under the water again. She rinsed off, allowing the water to wash away the soap and fully saturate her hair. She held out the shampoo to him when she had rinsed off and he accepted.

The feeling of his hands through her hair was luxurious. The tips of his fingers pressed firmly into her scalp, massaging it as he went. When he was finished, she slipped back underneath the water one last time. She heard Booth's sharp intake of breath and looked up to find him staring at her, eyes hungry with desire. Finishing, she turned off the water.

"You didn't have to do that, you know?" Booth said, taking her into his arms.

She shrugged, "We were wasting water."

"I wasn't complaining."

She placed her hands on his pectorals, "No, you weren't, though the other day you were certain that we would save water by showering together."

"I was wrong," he moved her hands up his chest and around his neck.

"Yes," she grinned, "You were."

She kissed him quickly on the cheek and released him, hopping out of the shower and finding the first available towel she could before heading out of the bathroom.

"Oh no you don't!" he charged out after her, not bothering with a towel of his own.

A squeal erupted from her and he chased her down the hallway and into the bedroom, finally tackling her onto the bed.

"Going somewhere?" he asked from his perch atop her.

"Are you?" she asked coyly.

He nodded, descending on her and capturing her mouth in his own. She returned his passion, deepening the kiss and running her fingers deftly through his wet hair.

Sometime later she lay curled up against him, their chests heaving in unison from the physical exertion. He ran his fingers through her hair, gently undoing each of the knots that he had created earlier.

"Why is it," she asked absently, "That we always sleep together at night and make love in the morning?"

"I don't know," he replied, "Maybe we have more energy first thing."

"That sounds scientifically accurate," she said, "Though I'm not sure how conducive it is to our work schedule."

She glanced at the clock on Booth's nightstand. Once again they would need to rush to get ready, though she felt as if she could stay in his arms all morning and not feel the least bit guilty.

"About that," he lifted up her newly smoothed hair, planting a trail of kisses along her neck, "I called Cam and told her I was taking you grocery shopping this morning."

She turned to face him, "Why?"

"Hey," he took hold of her shoulder gently but firmly, "Calm down, I didn't tell her you were _here_. I told her I stopped by your place and you have absolutely no food in your fridge and that I was taking you shopping and would drop you off when we were done."

"You lied."

"No," he shook his head, "I have stopped by your place- yesterday, if you'll remember- and you _don't_ have food in your fridge. I didn't see you calling Cam yourself so I did it for you."

"You have to stop that," she propped herself up on one elbow and glared at him, "I'm not a child."

"I know that, Temperance," he ran a hand up and down her bare arm, brushing her thighs with his leg under the covers, "Believe me, I am fully aware of the fact that you are a grown woman. But your priorities get skewed when we're on a case that's this time-consuming and you know that."

She searched for a suitable rebuttal but found there was nothing in his statement to rebut. The truth was that her ability to compartmentalize and focus wholly on the case often made her lose track of necessary things such as food and sleep.

Before being partnered with Booth she had subsisted entirely on take out and the protein bars that she kept in her office. Once they began working together and he started taking a personal interest in her well being she had still lived mostly on the take out he bought her or food from the diner and Wong Fu's. Any case that required her to work late hours left her freezer bare and her fridge full of leftover take-out.

"You see," he interrupted her thoughts, "You can't deny it."

She shook her head, "I still don't understand why you have always taken a personal interest in my eating habits."

He turned over on his back, put his hands behind his head, and let out a long sigh.

"In the beginning," he started, staring at the ceiling, "I felt obligated to. You were my partner and if you weren't operating at the top of your game I figured it would interfere with mine.

"Then," he moved his arms and faced her, "I realized that you didn't really have anyone who called you on that kind of stuff. I mean, Angela would give you relationship advice and stuff like that, but no one dared call you on how much you were wearing yourself down when the cases would get intense. The more I got to know you the more I realized how isolated from people you really were. You didn't let anybody very far in and you didn't have any family who would barge in without asking.

"So I stepped in more forcefully. I made sure you ate at least two meals a day and that you left the lab on the same day you got there," he stroked the outline of her profile as if she were made of porcelain, "It wasn't because I wanted to take over your life or order you around, but because I cared about you and wanted you to be healthy and strong."

"So that we could continue solving cases together?" she wondered aloud.

"I guess," he grinned wryly, "But by the time I really started stepping in I cared more about Bones my friend than I did about Bones the scientist. I don't like it when people I care about don't take care of themselves and you needed a family more than anyone I know.

"I'm sorry if you've felt like I am patronizing you- I've tried very hard not to come off that way. But I wouldn't do it if I didn't love you."

She nodded in understanding, bringing her hand up to cover his that was on her cheek.

"For years I was alone and responsible for myself," she told him softly, "In the system you learn quickly to watch out for yourself and become as independent as you possibly can so that no one hurts you. You were the first person in a long time to take a personal interest in me who was I was not physically involved with. Even after four years of being partnered with you, I am neither used to nor wholly comfortable with someone looking out for my interests.

"The only time that I can remember that happening was during my childhood. As a teenager, my parents had abandoned me and as an adult I abandoned by brother. I have spent the majority of my adult life trying to prove that I am capable of taking care of myself and excelling at whatever I set my mind to. In high school and college, I was the best student that I could be. In grad school I accelerated the fastest and studied under the top professors in my field. I relied on no one but myself- even during my affairs with Michael and Pete."

"That sounds so lonely," Booth commented.

"It was my way of asserting control even when I was not in charge of a situation," she explained, "And very few people hurt you if you do not allow them to get close enough. Certainly you, of all people, can appreciate that, Seeley."

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding genuinely miffed.

She met his eyes and smiled kindly, "You are a naturally gregarious, charismatic person. People like you and enjoy your company and probably have since you were a boy. You have your charm smile and your athletic prowess which allowed you to build surface relationships with people throughout the years. In that respect, you and I are quite different as those things have never come naturally to me, nor have I tried to cultivate except in the past few years.

"As regards our private lives though, we are very similar," she could see him growing defensive and reached out to touch him, softening her tone as he did when he corrected her, "You rarely discuss your personal life with our colleagues, although they constantly share anecdotes from theirs. We had worked together for several months before you revealed that you have a son- and I doubt you would have done that had you not been affected by the anti-fungal medication. Even now, after four years of working alongside you, I know less about you than you do about me.

"I know now that you have two siblings, but I do not know why you rarely mention them or your parents. I know that you were captured and tortured during your time in the military, but you positively avoid that subject," she watched his jaw clench and decided she had made her point.

"I am in no way blaming you for the choices you've made, Booth," she assured him, "I would not have revealed as much about my own personal life to you had it not become one of our cases. What I am saying is that we are alike in this area- more alike than either one of us is fully comfortable admitting."

He relaxed and seemed to consider her words.

Finally, he drew her to him and whispered in her ear, "You're right."

The dynamic between them shifted and for several minutes she was the one holding him, stroking his hair reassuringly as he clung to her. She found it sadly ironic that the man who had enabled her to comfort others was now the one in need of comfort, but she said nothing, sensing that words were no longer necessary.

Five minutes later the spark had returned to his eye, though there was a depth to it that had not been there previously. He kissed her quickly in thanks and jumped out of bed dragging her along with him.

"Let's get a move on, Temperance," he urged, "Those groceries won't buy themselves."

She shook her head and began dressing in the clothes she had arrived in yesterday, "Fine. But we are stopping by my apartment so that I can get some fresh clothing."

He nodded and ten minutes later they had dressed, grabbed a cup of coffee, and were on their way to her apartment.


	25. Chapter 25

For once, Booth was glad that bones pulled out her case files and reviewed them in silence on their way to her apartment. Maybe she sensed that he needed time to sort out their conversation from earlier.

Of all the people that he worked with, he would have pegged Angela to call him on how private a man he truly was. He certainly _never_ would have thought that his partner would- and he definitely had not been expecting such a probing speech from her. How long had she seen through him? Weeks? Months? Years?

The only way he could find out, unfortunately for him, would be to reopen her line of questioning. This was something he was not sure he was ready to share; even with her. There were family secrets that lay deeply buried and to include her in it would only add more burdens to her already heavy load.

From the time he could remember his father had come home from work, greeted his wife and children, and been plastered before the evening news. Some nights he would drink at home, other nights he would load his boys into the back of the car and drink with his friends. Booth could remember his mom always begging with his dad to leave them at home, but he never listened. Or if he did, he ignored her.

Seeley and Jared would be left in the car most nights when they were taken out, to fall asleep on the backseat until their father was done and drove them back home. Booth distinctly remembered asking his dad once why they were brought along if they were just going to sit in the car all night. He was backhanded harshly for his trouble and told to be glad for the time his father spent with him.

The problem of it all was that Frank Booth had the same charm and natural charisma that Bones had accused him of- which meant that no one at Mass or in any other "good" company knew how heavily he drank. He would drive miles out of town to buy his liquor and his favorite bar was an hour from the Booth household. And since he was always sober by the time his first customer came for a haircut in the morning, no one suspected a thing. During the holidays he would restrain himself, so that none of the other family members knew anything either.

Booth remembered reading in college that some drunks were quiet while others were violent. Frank was a violent one, though his oldest son was the one who stepped in and received the brunt of the attacks. "Eat the wall" was the usual punishment for anything that upset the elder Booth. To this day, Seeley could recall how his father would pick him up and slam him as hard as he could against the nearest wall- sometimes more than once.

The last time he had done it, Seeley had been sixteen and before Frank could grab his son, Seeley grabbed him, hard enough to make the older man stop. Seeley had let his father know in no uncertain terms that the next time Frank touched any of them- including his mother- he would be the one eating the wall. To Seeley's knowledge, his father had never hit anyone again- especially once Seeley joined the Rangers, making sure that his father knew how well he had done in his sniper and unarmed combat training. He and Jared and Lizzy had made an unspoken pact; they would deal with their father's problem as a family, but they would not discuss it with anyone- not even amongst themselves.

The Rangers had done him good. He had learned to discipline himself and channel his aggressions on catching and killing the bad guys. The protectiveness that he had always had for his family he transferred to the men and women he served with and he felt as if he fit in well among them. He had excelled there, had come back after choosing not to re-enlist and gone to college, then on to the FBI Academy.

Now he was a special agent, paired with one of the most brilliant scientist in the world. Together they had one of the highest conviction rates in the US of any FBI team. He had a son who loved him and looked up to him like no one else ever had and he was in love with a woman who loved him in return.

Yes, he thought to himself, he had finally become the successful man that his father told him he never would be.

"Are you alright, Seeley?" her touch on his arm alerted him to the fact that they were at her apartment, sitting in the parking lot.

"I'm good, Bones," he smiled genuinely at her, "Really."

She nodded and they got out, heading up to her apartment.

"Want me to help you get dressed?" he asked when they were inside.

"Tempting," she told him, "But, as you have pointed out numerous times now, I _do_ need to get food and we should go since you told Cam that's what we'd be doing."

"And your point is?"

She smiled and waved to him over her shoulder before walking down the hallway and closing her bedroom door.

"You're no fun, Bones," he called back to her.

He heard her laughing, but she didn't say anything. Getting a drink of water from the fridge he wondered around her living room. She might have gotten a TV, but the majority of the room was full of books. Most of them he had never heard of, though there were a few classics he remembered reading in high school and college.

One shelf was entirely comprised of photographs and knick-knacks. There were a few pictures of her and her family from years ago- when everything was still right in her world. There was another, more recent one of her and Russ and Max taken in the conjugal trailer last Christmas. He smiled, seeing his tree through the window of the trailer and remembering how she had told him that she had loved it.

Max was a man Booth had come to admire over time, and as much as he liked seeing justice served he was glad for Bones' sake that her father had not gone to the electric chair. His fingers brushed the glass dolphin that Max had left for her on one of his visits. Yes, he was happy that she had a chance to redeem her relationship with her father.

There were also pictures of their friends on her shelf. One was from the work Christmas party, in another she and Angela stood side-by-side grinning into the camera. Separate from these was a picture of the two of them, taken at one of the Jeffersonian's functions that they had invited him to. He could see why she had kept the picture. They were both smiling, facing each other and oblivious to whomever was taking the picture. She was beautiful in a strapless, dark blue gown that fell to the floor and he was in a tux that he had rented for the night.

"That was published in one of our company newsletters," she said, coming up behind him and slipping her hand around his waist, "I tracked down the photographer and got the original. I can make a copy for you if you would like."

He put his arm around her and smiled, "Naw, that's okay, Bones. I'll enjoy your copy for now. Besides," he pointed at it, "I don't have the brave sentinels that you do to guard the frame."

She blushed.

On one side of the frame stood Brainy Smurf, while on the other, Jasper the pig had been placed. He took great pride in the fact that she displayed his gifts so publicly and beside such a nice picture of the two of them.

"Hey, Temperance," he said softly, turning meet her eyes, "Why don't you pack one of those duffle bags of yours tonight just in case?"

"Just in case what?" she asked naively.

He waggled his eyebrows and leered at her with his eyes.

"Oooh," she said, catching on, "You mean that you wish for me to go home with you again tonight and possibly-"

"Talk," he interrupted her, "We have a lot to talk about. Some things I want you to know."

"Truly?" she seemed surprised, "Please don't feel as if I have obligated you to share intimate details about your personal life with me if you are not comfortable with that. As I said, I'm not sure how much of my own family history I had shared had it not been forced upon us as it was."

"Temperance," he drew her close to him, "My dear Bones, I've shared my body with you, I want to share my life with you as well."

She nodded, kissing him lightly on the lips before returning down the hall to pack her bag.

"Here," she returned a few minutes later, tossing him her duffle bag, "I packed a few days' worth. Just in case."

He grinned widely at her turning his words on him, thinking that she had come far in four years. He did find it strange though that she gave him her bag to carry; until he turned around to find her with an armload of empty bags.

"What in the world are those for?" he asked.

"Shopping," she said as if he should have known, "They're eco-friendly bags so that the store does not use so many plastic ones. I usually only need two of them, but I haven't been for a bit so I'll take four."

"Will that be enough?" he asked, thinking of the dozens of plastic bags he always ended up with no matter how many groceries he bought.

"Oh yes," she nodded, heading for the door, "They are quite efficient."

He shrugged, taking her word for it and they headed out.

Once they were in the car, she directed him to the whole foods market that she always shopped at. She also said that she normally went to one of the local farmers' markets, but they could go there later.

Booth was shocked and slightly appalled by what he saw. He was shocked because the food looked great and smelled fresher than anything he had seen at his grocery store. Each product gave information about where it was grown and if anything had been added to or taken away from it. He was appalled because she ended up with basically the same amount of food that he did and paid twice as much.

"Good thing those books of yours sell well," he joked as they each carried two bags out to the SUV, "Healthy eating costs a mini fortune!"

She shrugged, "I was more than able to afford it when I only had my salary from the Jeffersonian. And it is more than worth the cost to me to know exactly what is in the food I eat."

He laughed, putting his bags into the trunk and reaching to take hers, "This from the woman who eats massive amounts of take-out for weeks at a time."

"I told you that I purchase very healthy foods when I have the time."

"I still can't believe you don't eat red meat," he started the car and aimed them back toward her apartment, "Don't you miss biting into a rich, juicy steak?"

"Sometimes," she admitted, "Though then I remind myself how the meat is harvested and I lose all interest."

"I'd ask, but I'm not sure I want to know."

"It's barbaric in some instances," she informed him, "I do still eat chicken, however."

"Not that I saw," he gestured to the bags in the back.

"I get them at the farmers' market that I told you about," she said, "I know Mr. Zimmerman, one of the farmers, very well and he does not mistreat his animals. He even allows customers to tour his farm if they wish."

"I'm sure you jumped at that."

"Oh yes," she completely missed his sarcasm, "It was fascinating and I have never felt guilty buying products from him since then. You should buy some of his eggs for your world-famous Seeley Booth omelet sometime. I'm sure they would enhance the flavor tremendously."

"That good, huh?"

"Yes."

They were back at her apartment and had the groceries up and unloaded in no time. He was happy to see that it was only ten, so they had plenty of time to make it back to the lab by noon.

"We'll need to stop for lunch at some point today too," he said as they climbed back into the SUV and headed off.

"We can eat at the market. There are plenty of stands that sell sandwiches and different meats. Mr. Zimmerman even uses his own poultry to make fried dishes such as hot wings and chicken fingers, as well as rotisserie chicken."

"Doesn't sound too bad."

"It's quite delicious," she assured him, "I nearly always eat a meal when I shop there. And the homemade pastries are scrumptious as well."

"Those from Mr. Zimmerman too?" he asked, pulling into the parking lot that she was pointing at.

The spaces were narrow and almost all filled and he wished, not for the first time, that the FBI would give him something with a better turning radius.

"No," she shook her head as they headed across the parking lot, "Those are from Mrs. Fields. She makes very good cookies as well."

"Yeah, I've heard that," he chuckled.

"You've heard of her?" she sounded impressed.

"There's a national chain store that sells cookies called Mrs. Field's," he explained, holding the door open for her as they entered the market.

Her lips formed in the shape of an "o" and she smiled back at him.

Booth was much more impressed with the farmers' market than he had been with the whole foods one. For one thing, he could tell that these were hard-working people, who enjoyed making a living off of the land and he could respect that. For another thing, their prices were reasonable and sometimes cost less then what he knew he paid. More than anything, he was impressed with the effect the market had on Bones.

From the moment they walked through the doors, she was smiling and waving at people. At each vendor that they stopped at she would stay and chat with them, catching up on local events or on what was going on in each person's family. Apparently she had taken Max here as well because a few of the vendors asked how he was and encouraged her to bring him by soon.

They stopped by Mrs. Fields' pastry stand and purchased two of the largest cinnamon rolls that Booth had ever seen. They were coated in caramel and topped with walnuts. Mrs. Fields, who was probably no less than seventy, warmed the rolls up in a microwave for them, placed them on ceramic plates, and provided two forks. He thanked her and she smiled warmly at him and told him to come again sometime.

After eating theirs rolls- which were incredibly delicious- they headed for what Bones promised was the last stand.

"Temperance," a jolly man who reminded Booth of Santa Claus came out from behind the stand and gave the scientist a bone-jarring hug, "You haven't been around in a while. Are you on a big case?"

She smiled, returning the hug, and nodded.

The man turned to address Booth and smiled, "I always tell this one that I can tell when she's on a case because she doesn't come in and when she does, she's five pounds lighter."

Booth laughed, taking a liking to the man instantly, and extended his hand, "I'm Seeley Booth, her feeder when she's on a big case."

"Hiram Zimmerman," the man wrapped his beefy paw around Booth's hand and gave him a firm shake, "Good to see she has someone to look out for her out there in the big world. I expect your intentions are honorable with our girl, here?"

Bones made a choking sound, but Booth took it in stride, "Yes, sir, they are."

"Very good, Seeley, very good!" he slapped Booth on the back so hard Booth had to fight not to wince, "We're very fond of your girl here."

"So am I," Booth wrapped an arm around her waist, ignoring her glare.

"How did you meet?" the man moved behind the counter and began wrapping up parcels of meat into butcher paper.

"This is Special Agent Booth," Brennan cut in, "My partner at the FBI."

"Ah," understanding dawned on the man's face and his grin grew wider, "So you did decide to give him a shot after all!"

Booth cocked an eyebrow, first at Hiram Zimmerman, and then at his partner.

"Oh," the older man said, "She would come in jabbering on and on about 'Booth did this' or 'Booth told me that.' But every time I would ask if you two were together yet she'd swear that you were just partners.

"I told her," he winked at Booth, "That that was how me and Mrs. Zimmerman started out too. We'll be married forty years next May and I've never been happier. Temperance," he looked at her, handing her a stack of chicken neatly packaged along with a carton of eggs, "You let your young man take care of you when you forget to eat. And hold onto him- men like Agent Booth here don't come around every day."

She nodded, blushing, and became very involved with packing her items neatly into one of the bags they had brought with them.

"Mr. Booth," the man came around once more and offered his hand, "You take care of our girl. She's one in a million!"

"I know, sir," he said sincerely, "And I will."

"I believe you mean that, son," the men shook hands in parting, "Now, Temperance you bring young man back more often now that you two aren't just partners anymore, you hear? And bring that scoundrel of a father with you too. I'm going to beat that man at chess one of these days."

Bones nodded and smiled, "I will, Mr. Zimmerman. Good bye."

"Good bye," the man gave her a quick hug and moved back behind his stand, calling out to another customer who was headed his way.

Booth and Bones carried her bags to where a small collection of tables were located and took turns guarding the bags and getting food. They both ate light as they were still a bit full from the cinnamon rolls, but Booth was savoring every minute he spent with her.


	26. Chapter 26

"I'm impressed, Bones," Booth turned to her as they drove toward the Jeffersonian.

"I told you the food was excellent," she wasn't sure exactly what he meant so she guessed.

"No," he shook his head, "I mean with you. I don't think I've ever seen you so open and chatty with other people before."

She frowned, apparently wrong in her guess, "I _do_ have friends outside of work, you realize?"

"To be honest," he smiled, "I always hoped that you might but wasn't sure that you did."

"Well I do."

"That's good."

"Yes, they are good people."

"Seemed like it to me."

"They are very open and friendly."

"Uh huh," he nodded, "So any clues as to what kind of murderer we're chasing down this time?"

"Yes," she nodded her head, pulling out her notes from the night before, "There were plenty of clues present, though it's really best if I reserve any judgments until after I have time to examine the skull again."

"Was it violent?" he wanted to know next.

"Yes, that much I can be sure of from my initial assessment," she gave him a sidelong look, "Whoever she was, she was violently attacked and appeared to fight back. More than that, though, would be conjecture which-"

"You're not comfortable doing at this time," he finished for her, "Yeah, I know, Bones. I wasn't trying to get you to guess or anything. Just wanted to get a feel for what we're up against."

"Does that assuage you curiosity?"

"Yup," he pulled into his space at the Jeffersonian, "Now, let's go see what Angela has for us."

She nodded curtly and they headed in. Once again, Booth's fingertips lightly brushed up against her own until they reached the steps to the front door.

"See you after work, Temperance," he said in a low voice as he held the door open for her.

She smirked, catching onto his jest, "I'll look forward to it, Seeley."

They shared a smile and held each other's eye for a long second before passing through security.

Angela commandeered them within seconds of Brennan hanging her coat up.

"I have a face," she said gleefully.

"As do Booth and I and the rest of the world's population, so I fail to see the relevance of that comment."

The artist rolled her eyes and looked at Brennan, "Sweetie, you really need to not be so literal all the time. I meant I got a face from the skull that you gave me and I drew it into the Angelator. Come take a look."

"I expected nothing less of you," Brennan replied, flashing a friendly smile and moving in step with Angela.

Booth said nothing, but followed close behind them.

Angela grinned, then looked back at Booth as if a thought had just occurred to her, "Is she this literal in bed too? Cause if so you could tell her-"

"And look, we're here at the Angelator already," Booth cut in, obviously trying to deflect the question- though Brennan was not sure if that was for Booth's benefit or her own, "Why don't we take a look at that face of yours?"

"Spoil sport," Angela smirked, but began loading the software, "Well, here you go."

It always amazed Brennan how her friend could take a skull devoid of flesh and make them appear so life-like. As a forensic anthropologist she could tell approximately what a victim's facial features were and have a mental image of what they might look like. But Angela's drawings went beyond scientific data, conveying warmth and feeling as well as facial features.

The image hovering in front of them depicted a Caucasian female, with an angular face, blonde hair and blue eyes. Angela hit another button on her keypad and the entire skeleton appeared, then filled in with flesh.

"Meet- and I kid you not on this one guys- Candie Lane. We found a missing person's report on her right before you walked in," she handed Brennan a paper and Booth leaned over her shoulder to read it, "She was about five-four and close to one hundred and five pounds. She went missing nine months ago. Went out for a jog and never came back. She was just twenty-five."

"Did you have a chance to feed the skull data in?" Brennan asked.

"Yeah," Angela said, "I scanned it in, but it was not a pretty sight."

"I had ascertained as much last night during my reconstruction."

The body faded away, and the skull came into the forefront once more, losing the flesh and becoming an exact replica of the skull she had reassembled yesterday. Angela turned it so that they were facing the backside of the skull.

"Were there a lot of pieces?" Booth turned and questioned Brennan.

"One hundred and thirty-eight fragments," she shrugged.

"That's enough," he whistled low, "No wonder it took you so long yesterday."

She nodded, turning to Angela, "My initial observation was that this was a violent crime, would you concur?"

"Oh yeah," Angela nodded vigorously, "I found two major impact craters on the back of the skull and her jawbone has a hairline fracture too."

Booth was staring at the skull intensely, looking puzzled by what he saw, so Brennan stepped up to the Angelator and began pointing things out to him.

"Do you see this pattern?" she pointed to a series of concentric circles that Angela immediately zoomed in on, "It indicates that she first received a blow here."

"It doesn't look like that did the most damage," Booth observed and Brennan felt a small surge of pride in him.

"It didn't," she agreed and motioned for Angela to zoom back out, "The second time, she was hit from behind and to the left. This time there was enough force behind the blow to shatter the skull."

"How can you tell where the impact point is?" he wanted to know, "Seems like there are a lot of broken bones up there."

She thought about it for a minute, trying to decide on the best what to phrase things so that he would understand, "Bones in the skull break along predictable patterns when introduced to a sudden impact. I can tell you with absolute certainty that the blow came in the left posterior parietal because the bones at the base of the skull contain side to side fractures. You can see the depressed fracture there as well."

"It's basically cause and effect," Angela stepped in, "Getting hit in one part of your head has a fairly predictable effect on other parts. Like a water mattress- you lean on one side, the other side bulges out."

Brennan nodded her agreement.

"So what about her jaw?" Booth asked.

"That was a separate break. Most likely caused by a closed fist," Brennan answered.

"So," Booth began postulating, "Our guy punches her in the face, and she starts running away-"

"Maybe he hit her then?" Angela suggested, "But it didn't take her down because she was already running away."

"Right," Booth smiled at her, "So he hits her with whatever he has in his hand, but she keeps going and he has to chase her down until he finally catches up and bashes her skull in."

"You realize that this is pure conjecture?" Brennan planted her hands on her hips, chiding both of her colleagues.

"You see something different?" Booth asked.

She mulled over what they had suggested and shook her head slowly, "No, I suppose not. The body shows no signs that death came by some other means. Two of the phalanges on her right hand were fractured, suggesting that she fought back at some point. But we have no way of knowing at this point if she was struck by a man or a woman, or if she was running at the time."

"Actually," Angela popped the full skeletal frame back up, "For these blows to happen that hard, it either had to be one beefy woman or your average guy."

The simulation showed the force and angle necessary to deliver the shattering blow.

"That," Brennan pointed at the holographic image, "Was not conjecture, therefore I concede the merit of your hypothetical scenario."

"How are we doing, people?" Cam walked through the door.

"Booth has a theory," Brennan offered, "And the evidence seems to support it thus far."

"Good," Cam nodded curtly, "Did the missing person's report come through yet?"

Angela nodded and handed Cam a copy of the same paper she had given to Brennan.

"Candie Lane," Cam seemed as amused as Angela had been, "Her family's from Bowie, but that's not exactly next door to Calvert County."

"The report doesn't specify if she resided with her parents," Brennan pointed out.

"Only one way to find out," Booth clapped his hands and turned to exit Angela's office, "Let's go, Bones!"

"Where are we going?" she walked quickly, trying to catch up with his longer strides.

"To Bowie, of course!" he crowed, "Time to interview some family."

She rolled her eyes and followed him, leaving instructions with her grad student as to what she wanted them to focus on while she was gone.


	27. Chapter 27

Booth punched the address on the missing person's report into his GPS and waited for it to give him the directions.

"I could have done that, you know," Bones said from the passenger's seat, "I'm quite capable when it comes to computers."

"I'll remember that next time Temperance," he grinned, pecking her on the cheek.

"We're still on the clock," she reminded him, though she didn't sound extremely upset and he thought he saw some color creep up in her cheeks.

"There are car rules too?" he complained, pulling on his seat belt and starting the car as the GPS flashed the first set of directions.

"Well," she said, "We are still on company time. Whether we are in the car, or at the Jeffersonian, or the Hoover Building, we are still being paid to work. After all, you would not kiss me in the middle of the Hoover Building would you?"

He wagged his eyebrows, thinking he'd actually like nothing less. She must have caught the gleam in his eye because she shook her head at him.

"You would," she said; it was not a question.

"No arguments here, Bones," he grinned.

"It's not professional, Booth," she insisted, "Besides, I am not sure what our superiors would do should they discover we are dating. Are there any FBI policies that would forbid it?"

Booth thought about it for a moment. He knew of a few couple in the DC Bureau who worked together, but they were married, and he wasn't sure if they had been married before or after they'd joined the FBI. Certainly, he knew that fraternization among agents was highly frowned on. Bones was a government employee, but functioned more as an outside contractor as far as the Bureau was concerned.

"I'm not sure what Cullen would say, to be honest," he told her, "But I don't see what they could say."

"Could they sever our partnership?" she sounded worried, "Do they have that right?"

"I'm sure they could," he told her, "Just like Sweets threatened before. But I don't think they would, Bones, we've got one of the highest conviction rates in the country. Besides which, the unspoken rule is more about agents. You're not an agent."

"No, though we do both work for the government."

"Don't worry about it, okay?" he told her, smiling, "It'll work out."

"How can you be sure?"

"Look, I'll talk to Cam about it when we get back and she'll help us."

"Are you certain she would given your previous relationship?"

"Oh yeah," he smiled, "Cam herself said she knew we weren't destined for anything lifelong. We settled things between us a long time ago and there are no hard feelings. She'll know what the protocols are too."

Bones, for once, seemed satisfied with his answer and settled back in her seat.

Forty-five minutes later they pulled onto a quiet street in the suburbs just outside of Bowie and parked along the street.

"Follow my lead," Booth reminded her, "We're about to tell these people that their daughter is dead."

"I know," she told him, somewhat irritated, "It's not like this is something I've never done before."

"Tact, Bones," he laid a hand on her thigh, "Pretend these are your friends at the farmer's market, alright? No gory details."

"There was no gore," she corrected him, "Only skeletal remains."

"That is exactly what you _can't_ say when we're in there," his eyes begged her to get his point, "And don't say anything about how she died either."

"But what if they ask?"

"They always ask," he said kindly, "But they're not ready for the truth yet, so we hedge."

"Hedge?" she inquired, "Is that a euphemism for prevaricate?"

"As long as that means that we don't tell them the whole truth, then yeah. You really have got to stop using the word euphemism too 'cause all I can think about when you say that is sex."

"Not all euphemisms are sexual in nature, Seeley," she sounded like she was teasing him, "Just because your mind dwells in the septic tank does not mean that everyone's does."

"Sewer," he laughed, "My mind's in the sewer- or the gutter- either one will do."

"You know what I meant."

"I also know you were teasing me."

"How would you know that?"

"Because, my dear Temperance," he leered, "I _know_ you. And yes, that _was_ a euphemism."

"So we hedge?" she asked.

"Yup," he grinned as she switched tacks once she saw she was behind.

"Just tell them that we don't have all the facts in if they ask you directly. It's true enough and it won't crush them."

"Right," she dragged out the word, "Let's go."

They got out of the SUV and moved toward the house. It was always Booth's least favorite part of his job. Catching the bad guys in their tricks and lies was one thing, but telling a family that their son or daughter was gone and would never come back again was another. And the older Parker became, the more he understood what he was about to put the parents through.

Booth rang the doorbell and stood back.

"Yeah?" a gruff man who looked like he wasn't familiar with the concept of personal hygiene yanked the door open and looked at them suspiciously.

"I'm Special Agent Booth and this is my partner, Dr. Brennan," he said as if the man had welcomed him like an old family friend, "We're here about your daughter, Candie."

"Jean!" the man bellowed, turning around, "Some people from the gov'ment are here 'bout Candie."

"We ain't seen her in almost a year," an overweight woman came lumbering up beside her husband, "So whatever trouble she got herself into we don't know nothing about it."

"May we come in, Ma'am?" he asked politely, "We have some news for you."

"She finally git herself kilt?" the gruff man asked.

"Yes," Booth said simply, holding his hand out to keep Bones from answering the question.

"Figures," the woman said, "Guess we're stuck with the brats, then?"

Booth looked at her questioningly, "Excuse me?"

"Hah!" the woman turned to her husband, "Guess they don't know everything," she turned back to Booth, "Every couple of years there for a bit, Candie'd come home knocked up, mooch off us until she had 'em, and then take off again. After the third time we told her if she came back with another one she'd be leavin' with all of 'em. I don't need to be raisin' kids at my age."

She turned, abruptly, and went back into the house.

"We filed a report about her goin' off but it didn't do no good," the man huffed.

"That report helped us identify her," Bones explained.

"Guess it was good for somethin'," he grumbled.

They all stood on the porch and Booth was unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well," the woman reappeared with a child on her hip and two straggling behind her, "Here you go and good luck with 'em."

"Surely you can't mean for us to take them?" Bones asked, clearly repulsed.

"_Surely_ I can," the woman mocked her, "Gov'ment might as well be good for somethin'! If Candie ain't comin' back ain't no reason for me to keep 'em for her anymore now is there?"

"But they're your grandchildren!" Bones was growing angrier by the second.

"I ain't takin' 'em an' you can't make me!" the woman yelled, "You people have that fancy foster care system if nobody else wants 'em, but we ain't keepin' 'em and that's final!"

She thrust the baby into Booth's arms, shoved the other two out in front of her along with a pillowcase full of clothes, and both she and the man walked back in the door, slamming it in defiance.

Booth looked down at the kids; the oldest girl was maybe as old as Parker and the younger one, a boy, was probably three or four. The baby girl in his arms looked to be about a year old, though he wasn't all that great at judging baby ages.

Before he had time to collect his thoughts and work out a plan of attack, Bones already had the pillowcase slung over her shoulder and was herding the two children older kids over to the SUV, speaking softly to them. The little girl in his arms started to whimper when she saw her brother and sister going away, so Booth hurried to catch up with them.

Bones helped her charges up into the back seat and produced two granola bars from the trunk, which the kids dove into immediately.

"So what are we going to do?" she asked him, moving out of earshot of the kids, "What's standard protocol?"

"I'll radio the state police," Booth said, shifting the baby to his other hip, "They'll help arrange transport and get a hold of Child Services."

He saw the pain in her eyes and knew she was relieving her own memories, "I'll make sure their taken care of."

"Those people made me so- so _angry_, Seeley," she was clenching her fists and looked like she wanted to hit someone or something very badly, "How could they just throw them out like that? Like they were nothing but garbage?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, "But we'll make sure they find a good place, okay?"

"Do you think they know anything about their mother?"

"It's possible," Booth shrugged, "Though it sounds like she never stuck around for too long."

"Here," she offered, "I'll take Sadie if you want to radio the police."

"Sadie?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded, taking the baby from his arms, "Her name is Sadie, the oldest girl is Maddie, and the boy's name is Joey."

"They told you that?" he was impressed.

"Yes," she nodded sadly, "Maddie seems to understand exactly what is going on and was very distressed. I told her that we would take care of them."

"You did good, Bones," he smiled, "I'll go put that call in."

Ten minutes later, a state police cruiser came barreling down the street. Bones was on the sidewalk, reading a book to Maddie and Joey that Parker had left in Booth's SUV and Sadie was sound asleep in the back seat with Booth keeping a protective eye on her. He hadn't seen a hint of movement from the house since they had left.

"Agent Booth," the officer stepped up to the SUV and extended his hand, "I'm Lieutenant Michaels."

Booth shook the Lieutenant's hand and explained the situation to him.

"Doesn't surprise me," Michaels shook his head, "I've worked with the Lane's before back when they filed the complaint. They basically told me if she didn't show up soon they were dropping the kids off at my office and it'd be my problem.

"I've got car seats for the younger ones," he gestured to his car, "So I can take them off your hands now, if you'd like."

"What will happen to them?" Booth looked at Sadie, sleeping peacefully and blissfully unaware that her life was about to change.

"The local Child Services office was closed when we called," the officer explained, "We're under-staffed around here so by three everyone's gone home. We'll look and see if there are any registered foster parents in the area and see if they can take them in for the night."

"I'm a registered foster parent," Bones came and stood beside him, a child clasping each of her hands, "I could watch them."

"You'd have to stay here," Michaels thought about her suggestion, "In the state, I mean. You wouldn't be allowed to take them across state lines."

"Of course," she nodded, "I can get a hotel room in the area if that would be convenient."

"It might work," Michaels ran and hand through his hair, "It sure would save us a lot of work tonight if you are willing."

Booth and Bones nodded in tandem.

"I can get my credentials faxed to your office if you give me a number," Bones said, freeing one of her hands and whipping out her cell, "And Agent Booth has a son Maddie's age so I'm sure the Bureau would be willing to vouch for him as well."

Michaels gave Bones the number and moved back to his car to talk with his supervisor. He came back fifteen minutes later with confirmation that Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Temperance Brennan were being granted emergency temporary custody of the three Lane children.

Maddie smiled and gave Bones a huge hug, while Joey did the same to Booth. Sadie was still asleep, but the noise roused her and she began whimpering. Maddie moved over and picked her up with a practiced ease, soothing her little sister and telling her that they would be safe soon.

Michaels brought the car seats over and helped Booth install them in his back seat. Maddie was glad to sit in the middle so that she could care for her brother and sister. Soon they were all loaded in and following Michaels to a local hotel where the officer had booked rooms for them.

Bones and the girls were set up in one room, while Booth and Joey were in an adjoining one. At first Maddie was upset that she would not be with her brother, but Booth showed her the door that connected the two rooms and promised that if she needed to she could come over.

It took an hour for all of the paperwork to officially clear so that Michaels could take his leave of them. He thanked the pair once again for being willing to step in and left, promising to be in touch with them in the morning.

"So," Booth said when the door closed behind Michaels, "Who's hungry?"

Maddie and Joey jumped up and down in excitement, causing Sadie to hop around too before falling with a plop onto her diaper. They all laughed. Bones took Sadie into the other room and changed her with one of the diapers that the officer had left with them and they all trooped down to the hotel restaurant.

"Good thing this buffet is all you can eat," Booth grinned, watching Maddie pile food on her plate.

"It's doubtless they've had a filling meal in a long time," Bones commented, spooning some canned peaches into Sadie's mouth.

"Yeah," Booth nodded sadly.

A crash interrupted his thoughts as Joey's plate tumbled to the floor. The little boy gave a startled cry and Booth moved to comfort him.

"Hey," he said, approaching the little boy, "It's okay, we'll just get a new one, little big man."

The boy cowered when Booth stretched out his hand.

"Joey," Booth got down on his level and spoke gently, "I'm not going to hurt you, alright? We'll just get another plate and get you some more food, okay?"

Joey nodded his head, but still looked wary.

"Hey, my little boy spills plates all the time at my house and I never get mad at him and you wanna know a secret?" Booth waited until the boy nodded his head, then leaned close and whispered in Joey's ear, "I break plates sometimes too."

The boy grinned, then giggled at the thought of a grown man breaking a plate.

"You're a real superhero, Boof" he smiled as they went to refill his plate, "Like in the cartoons!"

"Who's your favorite superhero?" Booth asked, glad that Joey wasn't scared of him anymore and trying not to think what kind of abuse this young boy had endured.

"Spiderman!"

"He's pretty cool," Booth agreed, "You know who my favorite is?"

"Who?" Joey bounced up and down on his toes and Booth was glad he had decided to hold Joey's plate for him.

"Green Lantern," Booth told him, "Even when I was a kid I liked him."

"He's okay," Joey shrugged, "I still like Spiderman best."

"That's just fine," Booth ruffled the boy's hair as they reached the table where the girls were already seated.

"I wanna sit next to you, Boof," Joey declared.

"No, I want to," Maddie said, pointing to a seat she'd already saved for him, "You got him at the food bar, now it's my turn."

"Hey," Booth said calmly and with his best charm smile, "How about I sit between you guys? That way you can both sit next to me."

"Okay," Maddie agree, though she clearly wasn't thrilled.

The rest of the meal continued without incident and the kids were full and yawning by the time they were finished. Bones carried Sadie up to the room and Booth took Joey, who was half-asleep already, and Maddie grabbed his extra hand.

When they reached the rooms, they got the kids into their pajamas- ones that had been provided by Officer Michaels- and tucked them into their beds. Sadie was in a crib that the hotel had brought up for them. Joey refused to go to sleep without Maddie nearby and climbed into the full-sized bed with her. Not wanting to put the kids through anything more, Booth okayed the move.

When all three kids were finally settled down, Booth and Bones slipped into the other room, assuring their charges that they would be back in a bit and that they were just on the other side of the door if anybody needed them.


	28. Chapter 28

They walked into the adjoining room keeping the door open slightly behind them. Brennan slipped off her shoes while Booth plopped unceremoniously onto the bed and turned on a small light that was on the nightstand.

"Come on over," he invited her, patting the mattress beside him.

She hesitated for a moment, but it had been a long day and she decided it would feel good to be in his arms again. Moving onto the bed beside him she lay down on her back and sighed.

"Long day, huh?" Booth propped himself up on one elbow, removing the stray pieces of hair that had fallen into her face.

She nodded, "Not exactly how I envisioned spending the evening, though at least I didn't take my extra clothes out of the SUV."

Booth grimaced and she remembered he did not have any fresh clothes.

"You really should bring a change of clothes with you so that you are prepared when these scenarios present themselves."

"Yeah," he smiled, "At least I'm not wearing my best suit this time."

She returned the smile and began playing idly with his hand that lay on her stomach, tracing his palm lightly with her forefinger. She wasn't sure if she had ever noticed how large and calloused they were before.

"Do you think they were abused?" she asked, thinking of their new charges.

Booth was quiet for a minute, then he stretched himself all the way out on the bed with his head on his pillow, turned on his side to face her, and motioned for her to lay in his arms. She did, welcoming the strength and security they imbued her with. It was no small wonder that all three Lane children had been drawn to his presence- especially the young boy, Joey. She had never been more proud of him than when he had knelt down and comforted the boy with whatever secret he had told him.

"There's no doubt in my mind that Joey, at least, has been abused," Booth said quietly.

Brennan nodded, "Yes. The way that he cowered when you reached out to him made me think as much as well."

"His back is covered in bruises," Booth told her, "I saw them when he was in here changing. Some were fresh; others looked like they had been there for a while."

She shuddered involuntarily, "I didn't see anything on the girls, so perhaps they have been spared."

"God, I hope so," he breathed, his grip changing around her to where she felt as if he were clinging to her like a lifeline.

Silence descended on them and she lay in his arms thinking that, while she was glad that they had been able to extricate the children from such a horrible home life, they would not necessarily make things any easier for them by placing them in foster care- especially if they were separated. She knew of some family groups of two where the siblings had been allowed to stay together, but groups of three or more were almost always split up.

"If I was ever to become a parent," she mused out loud, "I would take children like them in rather than have any of my own."

"Huh?" Booth said, as if she had broken his train of thought.

"Instead of bringing children of my own into the world," she repeated, "I would take in children like these; ones who are already here but who have no one who wants them."

"I'm sure you would, Temperance," he smiled down at her, "And you'd be good at it too."

"You would be too, Seeley," she told him, "You did wonderfully with Joey tonight. And the girls seem enamored with you as well."

He pulled back from her slightly, a myriad of emotions playing across his face, and she turned on her side to face him fully.

"I know what he felt like," Booth said softly, "Joey. I used to flinch like that too."

She searched his gaze, trying to figure out what he was trying to reveal to her, "You were abused as well?"

His head nodded only a fraction of an inch while his eyes never left her, "My dad drank."

Suddenly, she knew why he had such empathy for these children and how he had known exactly what to do to calm Joey's fears. It also explained why he was so intensely private about his family, and especially his parents. Heaviness settled on her heart like a cold, wet blanket as she envisioned Booth being beaten as a young boy by an alcoholic father. Knowing that he had been the oldest sibling also made it clear that his overly protective instincts had more than likely begun when he was a child.

There were so many questions that she had for him, yet she sensed that this was a time for silence, not talking. And so she lay in his arms with her head laying on his chest as he held her, certain that when he was ready, he would reveal more.

A noise from the other room separated them instantly and Booth leapt off of the bed to see what was the matter.

"Dr. Bones," Maddie's tremulous voice reached them just before she appeared in the doorway, her face streaked with tears, "Can I stay in here with you?"

Brennan nodded and moved so that she was sitting at the end of the bed, "Why are you crying?"

The little girl looked from Brennan to Booth and then back to Brennan again, "Is my mommy really dead?"

"Yes," Brennan said as gently as she could, pulling the girl to her, "I'm afraid she is."

Maddie buried her head in the forensic anthropologist's chest and sobbed. Brennan looked to Booth for a cue as to what to do next. He joined her at the end of the bed and began rubbing Maddie's back softly, telling her that it was alright to cry if she was sad.

She sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her pajamas, "I never saw Mommy very much, but she was always really nice to me and I know she would've come back for us like she said."

"Your mother promised to come back for you children?" Brennan asked.

Maddie nodded and climbed up on Brennan's lap, "Last year, when she had Sadie, she promised that she had a job and that she was going to bring us home with her. Pop and Nana said she'd better hurry if she wanted us to still be there. They never liked us."

"Did they hurt you?" Booth asked softly.

The girl shrugged, "Sometimes. If we were bad or if they were angry about something," she lifted up her nightshirt, revealing a small scar on her abdomen, "That was the worst, but I was being bad, so they had to."

"What did you do?" Brennan was horrified, thinking of nothing that would lead an adult to hurt a child so much as to leave a permanent scar.

Maddie ducked her head, ashamed, "I made them stop hitting Joey," a fresh round of tears started, "I know I wasn't supposed to, but they said he was being bad and he wasn't! He was just playing with Sadie and she poked her eye with her finger. She started crying and they said it was Joey that hurt her but it wasn't! I saw! I saw!"

"Shh," Booth soothed and Brennan was relieved when he took Sadie onto his own lap, "They won't hurt any of you again, I promise."

"I _hate_ them!" Maddie cried, "I wish they had died instead of my mommy!"

"Don't hate," Booth said gently, stroking the little girl's hair and shaking his head, "Hating only hurts you and makes you mad all of the time and you don't want that."

"I don't love them," she answered him.

"I know," he said, "And not hating them doesn't mean that you have to love them, it just means that you won't let it make you angry."

"Being angry makes my belly hurt," she told him.

"Yeah," Booth kissed the top of Maddie's head, "See, you don't want your belly to hurt, do you?"

She shook her head, "I still don't like them."

"Me neither," he smiled at her and received a smile in return.

"Maddie," Brennan addressed her softly, not wishing to intrude, "Did your mother tell you where her new job was?"

"It was on an island," Maddie's face wrinkled as she tried to remember, "That's all she said. It was an island but still in Maryland. She said it was a really good job and that she wouldn't have to do tricks for people anymore."

"What was she gonna do? Did she tell you?" Booth asked.

"I forget," Maddie's voice was low and sad, "I'm sorry, Mr. Booth."

"''S okay, kiddo," Booth grinned, "You've helped us a lot."

"Really?" her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Yup," Booth nodded, "I just might make you a Junior FBI Agent, what do ya think?"

"Can Joey be one too?" she asked eagerly.

"Sure!" he smiled.

"Thanks, Mr. Booth," she hugged him tightly, "Do you think you and Dr. Bones can be our mommy and daddy now? I've never had a daddy before and I really like you."

"I wish we could, Maddie," Booth said soberly, returning her hug.

Maddie pulled back from him and her face fell, "Why can't you?"

"Bones and I are from a different state," he tried explaining, "You and Joey and Sadie have to stay in Maryland and we live in Washington, DC, so we can't be your foster parents."

"My teacher says DC isn't really a state," Maddie pointed out, "So really we wouldn't be going to another one and she said it used to be part of Maryland a long time ago."

"You're a smart girl," Booth told her, "But we still wouldn't be able to. I'll tell you what though," he set her down gently on the bed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, "You keep this card, okay? And anytime you need me, you call this number and you can talk to me."

"Really?" she stared at the business card that had Booth's picture and cell phone number emblazoned on it and broke out in a huge grin, "You mean it?"

"I mean it," he told her.

"What if I need to talk to Dr. Bones?"

"You call that same number and I'll find her so you can talk, okay?"

Maddie nodded vigorously, clutching the card to her chest, "I'll keep it forever and always."

"Sounds like a plan," Booth told her, "Now, it's time for all good little Junior FBI Agents to hop in bed and get some sleep."

"What about doctors and other FBI Agents?" she asked, smiling.

"Us too," he told her, "We're gonna change into our PJ's and be right over."

"Where are you gonna sleep?"

"In the other bed, right beside you and Joey," he hugged her, "Now you go back so that Joey's not scared if he wakes up, alright?"

She nodded, "Good night, Mr. Booth," she planted a kiss on his cheek, "Good night, Dr. Bones," she did the same with Brennan.

"Good night, Maddie," they said together.

The little girl slipped through the open door and into the other room, still clutching Booth's picture to her chest.

"You're a good man, Seeley Booth," Brennan pecked him on the cheek.

"Thanks," he smiled, "We should get ready and head over."

"Yes," Brennan began peeling off her clothes and changing into the nightshirt that she had brought in her duffle bag, "What will you wear?"

"Huh?"

"You can't simply wear boxers with three children in the same room," she pointed out, "It would be highly inappropriate."

Booth began pulling his own clothes off, "Guess I'll keep my undershirt on too."

She nodded, satisfied that that would be sufficient covering. They turned off the small light and moved over into the other room. Booth took her hand and guided her in the dark. They heard Maddie shift over in the other bed and Brennan hoped the girl would be able to get some sleep.

Reaching the empty bed they slid under the covers and settled in for the night. Brennan smiled as Booth's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. She fell asleep soon after and dreamed about little boys with bruises covering their backs who grew into strong, FBI agents.


	29. Chapter 29

The next morning was a whirlwind of activity. By seven, everyone was up and getting ready for the day. Bones offered to give Maddie and Sadie a bath in the girls' room while Booth took Joey over and gave him one in the other bathroom.

Bones laughed when Joey came running back into the room with Booth close behind him, "Did the tub have any water remaining by the time you were done?"

Booth looked down at himself. His boxers and undershirt were soaked and clinging to him like a second skin, whereas Bones didn't look like she had gotten a drop on her. He was very glad that he had chosen not to get dressed before giving Joey a bath.

"Laugh it up," he told her, "But I don't have any clean underwear to change into."

"You could always go Gestapo," she suggested wryly.

"Commando," he corrected her, "And what if I did?"

She shrugged, "That is entirely up to you. I would assume that chafing would become a problem at some point, but-"

He cut her off with a finger to her lips, "I'm gonna go get changed. Why don't you take the kiddos down for breakfast?"

"Sounds logical."

He smiled, watching her round up all three kids. She held Sadie on her left hip while Maddie and Joey clung to each of her hands. They left, babbling excitedly about what they were going to eat.

After they left Booth peeled off his wet clothes and tried drying them with the small dryer that was attached to the wall of the bathroom. Five minutes and three burnt fingers later his clothes were dry enough to put back on. He jumped in the shower for a quick wash. He felt refreshed when he was done, dressed quickly, and hurried down to join the others.

He found them in the hotel restaurant.

"The continental breakfast was sparse," Bones said, motioning him over, "So we chose the buffet again."

Sadie was ripping pancakes apart and stuffing them into her mouth, there were squished eggs around her high chair too. Maddie was having French toast, while Joey had a bowl of Corn Pops that he was digging into eagerly.

"I tried to persuade him to try some eggs or something more nutritious but he was resistant," Bones muttered to him.

"It's okay," he said, clapping her shoulders, "He'll live."

Booth headed over to the buffet line and returned with a plate full of food and a bowl full of Corn Pops.

"Hey, buddy," he said, sitting down next to Joey, "You sleep okay?"

"Mmm hmm," the boy nodded, his mouth full of cereal.

Booth dug into his cereal and took a bite, "These are good! You know I used to eat these all the time when I was a kid?"

"Really?" came the muffled reply.

"Yup," he took another bite of the cereal, trying hard not to cringe at the sweetness, "My brother and I used to fight over who got the last part when we'd get down to the bottom of the box."

"Bet you won," Joey said.

"Sometimes," Booth smiled, he stuck a fork in his scrambled eggs and started eating them, "So did Maddie tell you about being a Junior Agent?"

"Uh-huh," Joey beamed, "She sure did."

"Mmm," Booth said, "These are good too, you want some? I'll share."

Joey considered it for a moment, then took the fork that Booth was offering and got his own bite. Within a few minutes the two of them had finished all of the eggs.

"See what I mean?" Booth told him, "Good FBI agent food."

"Do you think I can be big a strong like you someday Boof?" the four year old asked.

"You keep eatin' right, work out some, I don't see why not," Booth told him.

"What else do FBI guys eat?" Joey wanted to know.

"Come on and I'll show you," Booth said waving his arm.

"Can I come too?" Maddie wanted to know.

"You're a girl," Joey scoffed, giving her a shove, "Girls don't grow up to be FBI agents!"

Bones stood up to step in and Booth motioned for her to keep quiet.

"Dr. Bones," he looked at her, trying to send a message to her with his eyes, "Why don't you take Maddie up to get some more food?"

Bones nodded and she and Maddie went over to the buffet.

Booth took Joey by the shoulders and steered him over to the table; Booth sat down, Joey stayed standing up, hanging his head.

"Look, little big guy," Booth started, "FBI agents can be girls and the one thing we definitely don't do is hit girls."

"Sorry," the boy shuffled his feet.

"Hey, look, I'm not the one you need to apologize, Joey," Booth said.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"You think shoving's a good thing?" Booth asked him.

Joey shrugged, "Pop shoves me when he's mad."

"You like that?"

"No."

"Yeah, I never used to like it when my dad did that to me," Booth nodded in understanding, "So I promised myself that I would never hit anybody- boys or girls."

"Do you hit bad guys?"

"Yes," Booth chose his next words carefully, "But only if they are trying to hurt me or Dr. Bones. I never hit them just because I'm angry or because I want to be mean. And I never hit my sister. A real man doesn't hit girls, he protects them, okay?"

"Okay," the boy beamed up at him, "I'll protect 'em. Can we get some FBI food now so I can grow big and strong like you?"

"Sure, kiddo," Booth stood, ruffling the boy's hair.

Bones and Maddie came back to the table and Booth was never more proud of the little boy then when he saw Joey go over to Maddie and apologize and give her a hug. They waved goodbye to the girls and piled Joey's plate high with "FBI guy food" and headed back to the table.

They had just finished cleaning up Sadie- who had managed to wear most of the food she had been given- when Lieutenant Michaels walked through the restaurant door. Maddie immediately clung to Bones, while Joey wrapped himself around Booth's leg. Sadie, seeing her brother and sister react to the policeman, began hopping up and down in her seat, putting her arms up for Bones to hold her.

As if she had been doing it for years, Bones swooped the little girl up and balanced her on one hip while placing a comforting hand on Maddie's back. Booth pried Joey off of his leg and picked him up then moved to stand next to the girls.

"Good morning," Michaels said, his tone friendly, "You guys sleep well last night?"

Three heads bobbed up and down, clinging even tighter to their guardians.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, thank you again for stepping up like you did," Michaels said extending his hand first to one, then the other.

Pleasantries exchanged, the officer got down to business, "Our Child Service rep should be here soon. We've found them a foster home not too far from here so Maddie can stay in the same school for now."

"Will they be kept together?" Bones wanted to know.

"For now, yes," Michaels answered, "It's the best I could do for them given the circumstances. Now, let's go get their things and collect the car seats."

They trooped out of the restaurant and up to the room. By the time they returned to the lobby Child Services was there waiting for them. The no-nonsense woman introduced herself as Nadine Whitman and all but ordered them to follow her to the car so that she could be on her way.

Sadie, sensing what was happening, began wailing inconsolably, while Joey kept a death grip on Booth's neck, shaking his head the closer that they got to the CS van. Maddie simply kept her grip on Bones' free hand, though Booth could see her fighting back tears and trying to be strong for her brother and sister.

When the time came for them to get in the van, Maddie helped Booth and Bones calm the younger two. After many tears, they were finally all in.

"We'll check on you guys soon, okay?" Booth promised in a low voice as the other three adults waited outside of the van, "And don't forget to call me if you need me."

"We won't," Maddie sniffed.

Booth gave all three a hug, then stood back so that Bones could do the same. Nadine Whitman huffed at the scene they were making and stalked around to the driver's seat. She started the car and drove off as soon as Booth closed the door. Three little hands waved to them and they watched the van until it was out of sight.

The Lieutenant thanked them again and took his leave.

Booth turned to his partner, whose eyes were glistening in the morning light and put a loving arm around her, holding her close as they walked back into the hotel. Five minutes later they were checked out and standing in front of the SUV.

"Ready to go home?" he asked softly.

She nodded wordlessly.

"Come here," he beckoned, holding out his arms.

She took two steps forward and collapsed against his chest, heaving with silent sobs. He enclosed her in his arms and held her, stroking her hair and assuring her that it was okay to cry. Finally, her sobs subsided. He tilted her head up and their lips met.

Mutual grief was shared, as well as a promise not to allow the Lane kids to slip through the cracks. By the time they separated, he knew that she had doubled her resolve to catch Candie Lane's murderer and was ready to go back to lab and get to work.


	30. Chapter 30

It was times like this that Temperance Brennan wished she was stronger than what she was. She had felt weak, collapsing into a puddle of tears against Booth's chest and at the same time it had been exactly what she needed. It was irrational how quickly she had bonded with the Lane children in the few hours that they had been in hers and Booth's care.

Staring absently on the syrup that had been transferred onto her shirt while she was cleaning Sadie, she tried not to think about how the little girl had wailed for her from the car seat. Maddie and Joey had been upset as well and the woman from CS could not have been any more apathetic toward the situation. She realized that it was not healthy to drag the process out, but she also remembered what it felt like to be driven away by cold, unfeeling people to a strange new life. It should have been her and Booth taking them to their new home and she swished she would have fought harder for them.

An hour and a half later they were back at the Jeffersonian.

"Don't stay too late," Booth pecked her on the cheek, keeping the engine going.

"You're not staying?" she was surprised, though secretly relieved knowing that he would not be a distraction to her while she worked.

"I," Booth tapped her nose with his forefinger, "Am going to see how many islands there are in Maryland."

"Where Maddie said her mother got a job," she smiled widely, understanding dawning, "That is a _very_ good idea!"

"Well, you know," he grinned, "They don't me a _Special_ Agent for nothing."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, and stepped out of the SUV, waving at him as she went, "Good bye, Seeley."

"If you're not done by eleven I'm pulling you out and having my dirty way with you!" he called through the open window.

"You would anyway," she called back, tossing one last wave over her shoulder before walking up to the building.

In the lab, things were running just as they always did. Hodgins was hovering over his microscope while Angela was hovering over him. Clark was studiously poring over the remains and miscellaneous interns, grad students, and other Jeffersonian employees milled around performing their various tasks. Cam was standing on the walkway, observing everything when Brennan walked by.

"Dr. Brennan," she greeted with a nod, "I heard you two had some excitement down in Bowie."

"Yes," she acknowledged, not knowing what else to say and at the same time trying to distance herself emotionally from the case, "Though Booth believes he may have a lead based on some information that the oldest child gave us."

"Good," Cam said, "All of Hodgins' and Clark's initial reports are on your desk along with the information Angela dug up on Candie Lane's credit history, driver's license- the usual."

"I will look over them and pass them along to Booth."

"Okay, well, I am going to get a head start on my weekend paperwork so check in with me if you or Booth find anything new."

Brennan nodded and headed for her office, sighing as she reached the stack of paperwork and files that had accumulated. She booted up her computer to check her e-mail and turned to the file of information that Angela had found.

A chirping noise interrupted her train of thought.

_So I hear you are a computer savvy woman __J_, the messenger window on her computer read.

"Booth?" she said aloud, before realizing that he couldn't hear her.

She typed the question in and sent it.

ImAndy replied, _But of course._

_LOL_, she typed, remembering the phrase Angela used the last time they chatted online, _And you are __not__ Andy- well, not completely. What are you doing online?"_

_Looking up islands in Maryland_, Booth replied.

She was about to respond when her cell phone rang.

"Brennan," she answered, shouldering the phone and starting her response to Booth.

"I hate typing," came the familiar voice.

"Well then why did you open the chat window to begin with?" she asked him, shutting her window down.

"I felt like it," he answered.

"Have you found any islands in Maryland?" she asked.

"More than you might think, but none of them sticks out right now."

"Angela researched Candie Lane's credit history," she offered, sensing that he was frustrated.

"Great," she could hear the smile return his voice, "I'll come over and look at it. Meanwhile, I have Charlie checking to see if Candie's got a record and he's looking into the parents' background."

"We already know they're criminals," she replied, "Well, the parents are at least. Did you report our suspicions yet?"

"Three steps ahead of you, Bones," he laughed, "I talked with Michael's on my way back here and he faxed me the papers we need to file charges against them. I filled out my part already so I'll bring yours over when I come. He's also gonna go over to the foster home with the CS photographer for documentation."

"Is that necessary?" Brennan asked, thinking that they had been through so much already in the past two days.

"It is if we want to log Joey's bruises before they fade," Booth told her sympathetically, "I had taken a couple on my cell phone while Joey was dressing from his bath, just in case it fell through the cracks, or in case somebody tried to pin the abuse on us."

"Why would they do that?" she inquired incredulously, "Those hematomas were older from what you described."

"They were, but you can't be too careful these days, Bones," he explained, "It wouldn't surprise me at all if the grandparents try and pin it on us once we file charges."

"That's ridiculous!"

"That's life," he said, "Look, Bones, I'm gonna finish up on a few things here and then head over to you and get that credit report."

She glanced at the clock and grimaced when she saw that it was close to two already and she was nowhere near done what she wanted to accomplish for the day.

"I have a lot of reports to read through still, Booth," she informed him, "Several hours' worth to be honest. "

"Sounds like business as usual, Bones," his voice dropped lower and he added, "I'm not coming over for a booty call, you know?"

She laughed, "I should hope not! That would be extremely unprofessional, not to mention highly unsanitary."

Booth chuckled and she could picture him shaking his head on the other end, "I love you. Have I told you that?"

"Several times," she nodded with a soft smile, "And I assure you the sentiment is reciprocated."

"You love me too?"

"I believe I just said that."

"That's my girl," the grin was hugely evident in his voice and she realized that she wished she were with him to see it, "I'll see you in an hour or so."

"I will be here."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. She leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh and stared at the ceiling for a moment to clear her mind.

"That," Angela's voice startled her back to reality, "Is as close to a dreamy look on your face as I've ever seen. How's lover boy?"

"_Booth_," Brennan emphasized, shuffling papers around on her desk in an effort to look as if she were very busy, "Is researching a lead that we received from the oldest Lane child last night as well as filing paperwork so that charges can be laid against the grandparents."

Angela nodded sadly, "Cam said you two thought they might've been abused."

"We found very compelling evidence to that end."

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," Angela reached across the desk and laid a hand on top of Brennan's.

"For what?"

"I'm sorry that you had to see that," Angela went on, "Sorry that you had to put kids into the system that I know you hate and have no faith in. You really bonded with them didn't you?"

"We both did," Brennan nodded, "It would have been difficult not to. The oldest girl, Maddie, she knew exactly what was going on, Ange. She may not have been close to her mother but she still wept when we assured her that her mother was dead."

Angela squeezed her hand again and waited for her to continue.

"Booth was able to calm her and gave her his card should she need to contact us," she shook her head, "But it didn't seem like enough."

"It's not," Angela's voice was not cynical, but gentle, "Bren, no matter what you do or how quickly you solve this case you _can't_ bring Candie Lane back from the dead for her kids."

"I know," she told her friend, "Well, my mind knows, but my heart is having a very difficult time with the concept."

"That's part of living, Sweetie," the artist told her, "The risk we run when we let people in."

"Is it worth it?" she thought of Maddie, Joey, little Sadie, and even her newly formed relationship with Booth.

"It's not worth living without," Angela assured her, "And the things worth doing are always worth the risk."

"Is that why you finally relented to Hodgins' marriage proposals?" Brennan asked, "I mean, before you discovered you were married and had to call off-"

Angela held up a hand and stopped her, "First off, Sweetie, I didn't relent to anything. Second, yes. For me and for him, where we were at the time it felt like it was worth it and eventually, we _will_ get married and live happily ever after."

"That is highly improbable."

"And yet totally worth the risk."

"What happens if your sentiments for each other wane as the years progress?" she wanted to know.

"Love is a verb, Sweetie," Angela stood up to leave, "That means it's both an action and a choice. You'll know when it's worth the risk."

"My character judgment has been sorely lacking when it comes to men," the words sprung from her mouth before she could take them back.

Angela sat back down and looked her in the eye, "Look, Sweetie, I know you haven't had the best of luck with men- it's not like I've always picked right either. But Booth, he's the guy that little girls dream they want to marry some day and grown women know are few and far between. And he's the sticking type too, no doubt about it.

If he ever asks you to marry him- even if that oversized brain of yours freaks out and tells you to run away- accept it. You'll never find another man who loves you as much and respects you for who you are."

"I find it highly unlikely that he will propose marriage any time soon given that we have been dating less than a week."

Angela laughed and stood up once more to leave, "Sweetie, you two have been dating for the past four years. You're just finally catching up to your own reality."

Brennan shook her head, "Sometimes you make no sense, Angela."

"Just think about what I said, okay?" Angela pleaded with her, "And don't run away on him."

Brennan nodded and Angela walked out.

The forensic anthropologist buried herself in her paperwork and waited for Booth to arrive.


	31. Chapter 31

Booth wore a smile of content as he hung up the phone. He was in love with a beautiful, intelligent woman and she "reciprocated the sentiment." Which was probably the closest that he would ever get her to admit that she loved him while she was at the lab. It didn't bother him though because that was Bones and if she ever changed too much he wasn't sure he would love her as much as he did right now.

He worked for close to an hour, poring over maps on the internet in search of Maddie's elusive island before his eyes told him that it was time for a break.

His thoughts drifted to Bones and he pulled out his desk drawer, palming the box from the gift shop in Maryland that he had managed to get back to DC without her discovering it. With her staying at his house off and on there was no way he was going to keep it there and she wasn't likely to be snooping around his desk at work anytime soon. He certainly did not want her finding it before it was time.

Shaking his head he silently asked himself what in the world he had been thinking buying it in the first place. He opened the hinged box and laid it reverently on his desk. Pillowed in satin was a ring that he was fairly sure would fit her and that he knew she would love if he ever worked up the guts to give it to her. Two silver dolphins leapt gracefully on either side, meeting at a beautifully-set, heart-shaped piece of turquoise. There had been a set of matching earrings and a necklace that contained the same stone and design, but he had only noticed them after the woman had rung up the ring and by that time Bones was on her way to the front of the store. Even if the case didn't bring them back down there, he was going to get them for her somehow.

Of course, he wondered if she would ever accept the ring- or more importantly, the proposal he planned to give with it. One of the first things he had learned about Dr. Temperance Brennan early in their partnership was that she viewed marriage as an antiquated ritual that she never planned on partaking of. Then again, the only reason that she had put up with him back then was because she had manipulated him into letting her into the field. Now she had let him into her bed and heart-wise she was a completely different person, so he knew that some things could change.

"I need to get my head examined," he muttered, propping his elbows on the desk and running his fingers through his hair.

"I can set you up with Dr. Sweets again if you want," a voice offered.

Booth fought back a curse as he looked up to find Cullen in his office. He snapped the ring box closed and shoved it back in his desk drawer, then stood to greet his superior.

"Thank you, sir, but it's just been a long couple of days," Booth shook the man's hand and offered him a seat.

"Which is why I'm here," Cullen told him, sitting down, "You and Dr. Brennan did a very good job down in Bowie and I wanted to tell you personally that the Bureau will back you one-hundred percent if this child abuse case goes south."

"Thank you, sir," Booth felt ridiculous for repeating himself, but he couldn't think of anything more original.

"Does Dr. Brennan have any idea how Ms. Lane died?" Cullen asked next.

"She says it was violent," Booth informed him, glad to have a question he could answer, "But we don't have the weapon yet or a suspect- just a few vague leads that I'm trying to track down."

"Sounds like a start," Cullen got up, "Keep me informed on this and your dealings with CS."

"Yes, sir," Booth nodded.

"And Agent Booth," Cullen turned just as he was about to leave.

Booth sat up straight in his seat, giving the other man a questioning look.

"Most of them like it when you go down on one knee," he smiled kindly, "Well, my wife did anyway- though now that I think about it, your Dr. Brennan might not be that traditional."

Booth was fairly certain that his jaw dropped a foot and he struggled for words, "Sir?"

Cullen threw back his head and laughed, "Son, all of the weight that you usually carry around has been non-existent this week, not to mention I know the look of a man in love," he held up his own wedding band hand.

"But how did you know-" Booth ran out of words.

"That it was Dr. Brennan?" Cullen asked, "Oh, please, Booth, we've had an office pool going on since the day you two started working together. Some voted that you'd kill each other in under five years; I put my money on you marrying her by then."

"Yeah well," Booth ran a hand behind the back of his neck, unable to believe that they were having this conversation, "She's gotta say 'yes' first, sir."

"I'm confident you'll find a way," Cullen smiled kindly, then smirked, "Though if you manage to do it before you two hit five years together I'll be a happy man too."

Booth smirked back, "Bones would kill both of us if she ever heard this."

Cullen nodded his head, "And nobody would ever find the bodies either- I've read her books, she'd make an eerily good killer."

"That she would."

"Good luck," Cullen offered a final wave and headed off casually, as if they'd been talking about last night's hockey game.

Booth leaned back in his chair- the chair that _she_ had requested that he be given as a reward for his hard work-and sighed. He leaned forward and pulled the box out again, deciding that it would be safest inside of the bag that he had gotten it in even if it was in his drawer. He grabbed the bag from his bottom drawer, shaking it so that the ring would fit in it. It opened and the receipt fluttered out in the process.

He put the ring in the bag and the bag back in the deepest part of his drawer, then closed the drawer and bent over to pick up the receipt. He glanced at the address so that he would know where to go back to the next time and froze. The clue that he had been searching for all afternoon stared back at him and he grabbed his jacket and keys and sprinted for the parking lot.

He nearly bowled Charlie over in the hallway on his way to the elevator. Trying to make his way around the other Agent, Booth said hello politely and moved out to the side. Charlie stopped him and handed him a manila folder containing all of the information Booth had requested earlier. Booth thanked him hurriedly and excused himself, saying that he had important information that he needed to get to the Jeffersonian immediately. Charlie nodded and let him pass, which was good because Booth would have made him move aside in about two seconds if he hadn't.

During the drive to the lab, he tried to fit together the pieces of the puzzle that he had, wondering at the same time if Bones had found anything that could add to it. He glanced at the clock on the dash. It was four o'clock already and the Jeffersonian would be emptying by now. He knew Bones and her squints would still be there if they hadn't finished, but most of the general staff would be heading home.

Apparently, all of the rest of DC was heading home too, and spent the next forty-five minutes battling rush-hour traffic. He was just about to phone ahead, when the traffic thinned enough for him to get off onto a side road that he knew would get him there quicker than the main routes.

He parked in his space, hurried up the walk as fast as his suit would allow, and took the stairs two at a time. Security waved him through and he made a bee-line for her office. On the way, he passed Cam's and decided that he could spare the few minutes to keep his promise to Bones.

He tapped on the doorframe and Cam waved him in.

"You look like you have something," she stated.

"I do," he said, "I'm pretty sure I know where our victim was working before she was killed, but I'd like to run it passed Bones first."

Cam shrugged, used to their methods by now, "So what did you want, Seeley?"

"Actually," he stalled, feeling extremely awkward, "I wanted to let you know that-" he stopped, then started again, "I mean I thought it would be best if you knew-"

"That you're bedding my top forensic anthropologist?" Cam put him out of his misery, "Yeah, I figured that out when you two got back on Tuesday."

"How does everybody know?" he was trying to keep his volume down but not succeeding.

"Seeley Booth, I knew from the moment I joined this team that you and she had a connection," she pointed at him, "I even thought you were sleeping together at first. Not that I thought that for very long," she smirked, "And now you two come back from this dig with absolutely none of the sexual tension you've been carting around here since before I came?

"It doesn't take a genius to figure things out from there- and we've got a whole lab full of them," Cam looked up at him and smiled, "I'm happy for you two. You know that, right?"

He nodded, still stunned that both of their bosses had things figured out already.

"Good," she said, then fixed him with her sternest look, "My only rule is that you keep it professional while you're here. After that, I don't care, nor do I particularly care to know. I already have one hands-on couple to keep my eyes on- the last thing I need is another one."

Booth tossed her a mock salute and headed out the door, "That was her rule too, so no problem."

He thought he saw her hide a smirk, but his mind was already focused on getting to Bones so he let it go.

"Hey lover boy," Angela called to him as she left with her arm wrapped around Hodgins, "Have a good night!"

He nodded, but said nothing as he pressed on and entered Bones' office.

"I found it!" he crowed triumphantly, causing her to leap out of her chair and whirl around to face him.

"Found what?" she asked, her eyes bleary from hours of paperwork, "And when did you change?"

"The island," he said, hanging his black jacket on her coat rack, "And I swung by my house on the way to the office."

"Booth, there is no direct route to your townhouse between here and the Hoover Building," she rubbed her eyes.

"I couldn't be in that suit a minute longer," he plopped unceremoniously in the chair opposite her, "Now focus, Bones, I think I found where Candie worked before she died."

"Technically, she was murdered," Bone corrected him, glancing back at the papers in front of her, "And very violently at that."

"Okay," Booth pushed himself to his feet, "Let's go!"

He moved around the desk and held her coat out to her.

"What?" she said, "I'm nowhere near finished here and it is _not_ eleven o'clock yet."

"Nope," he said, grinning because as she spoke she was already standing up and had started putting her arms in her coat, "But you have definitely been here too long."

"I. Have. Work," she enunciated each word clearly.

"All of which can be done at home," he told her, holding her shoulder bag out to her and gesturing to the desk full of papers, "My home to be exact."

"Booth," she complained as they dumped the papers in her bag, "What was the point of taking me shopping if I'm not going to be at my house?"

"You had no food," he reminded her, "And if it makes you feel better we can swing by your place and grab some of it."

"Fine," she agreed, glaring at him mildly as he took the bag from her.

He grunted at the load and asked sarcastically, "You sure you didn't want to bring anything else? Maybe the mummy?"

"Actually," she turned to the floor where another stack of papers lay, "I do have these but I can carry them myself, thank you."

"I don't even know why I bother," he muttered to himself then smiled at her, "Let's go, Bones!"

"You," she said as they left her office, "Are extremely demanding tonight."

"Bones, I just told you that I found a major clue and you completely ignored me," he waved at Cam on their way out.

Cam smiled, already in her own coat, and waved back.

"You found a clue?" Bones sounded surprised- which did not surprise him.

"Yup," he nodded, as they crossed over the grounds to the parking lot, "I found the island Maddie was talking about- except it's not an island."

"That makes no sense," she told him as they loaded her stuff into the back seat.

"Which is why it took me a while to find it," he told her, aiming the SUV for her apartment.

"Are you going to tell me," there was an edge in her voice, "Or are we going to play 20 Questions all night?"

"You know 20 Questions?"

"Of course, my father used to play it with us as children to get us to interact with and be mindful of the environment around us."

"He told you that?"

"Well no, but it seems like that is the logical objective."

"Or he just did it to pass the time on long car trips like my mom used to."

"How did you know we played it in the car?"

"Like I said, we played that all the time. See," he smiled over at her, "Your family was a lot more normal than you give 'em credit for!"

She waited until he was at a red light before punching him in the shoulder.

"Anyway," he said, pulling into her apartment's parking lot, "Did you catch the name of that small town we walked around when we were down in Maryland?"

She shook her head and climbed out.

"Turns out," he came alongside her and slipped his hand into hers, "Its name is Solomon's Island."

"I don't recall crossing a bridge to get to it from the main highway," her brow furrowed.

"That's because we didn't," he told her, "Turns out a few decades back they connected it to Route 2/4 and made a peninsula out of it, but never changed the name. Which is why-"

"It wasn't on any of the maps as a true island," she finished, becoming excited, "Do you think that's where she worked."

"It tracks to me," he told her as they entered the apartment, "I mean, her body was dumped just up the road from there."

"And it could fit Maddie's description as well," she nodded.

"Who's the man?" he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Well," she took him by the arms, holding him close to her, "I am certainly not a man."

"Oh no you aren't," he agreed wholeheartedly, moving his lips to within inches of hers.

She closed the gap between them. Exhaustion from the days' events, relief at being freed from the office, and the slightest tinge of residual grief was communicated in the kiss. She pressed him against the nearest wall and he freed her ponytail from its restraint, running his fingers through her thick, smooth hair and inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo.

"We," she said, gasping as he trailed kisses down her soft, supple neck, "Should get the food and go to your house if we are going to."

It was one of the few things that could have gotten him to stop as he envisioned them together in his bed. He kissed his way back up her neck and onto her lips.

"Works for me," he told her, "Though you may want to let me off of your wall first."

She blushed slightly, but brushed her midsection against his one last time before freeing him and going over to the fridge to collect some food. In less time than he thought possible they were done and on their way to his house. It was promising to be a good night.


	32. Chapter 32

Brennan set the newly transplanted bag of groceries on Booth's kitchen counter. Booth asked her if she needed anything and she reeled off a list of items and utensils that she would need.

"What in the world are you making?" he wanted to know as he laid each item that she asked for on the island.

"Perhaps I want to keep it a surprise," she told him.

"Perhaps I'll drag you up to the bedroom right now, if you don't tell me."

"Perhaps I'll kick you in the-" he kissed her before she could finish.

"No fair," she huffed when he had finished.

She turned her attention to the task at hand, ignoring him completely.

"I'll be in the living room," he told her, smacking her lightly on the rear before heading out.

She nodded, then got to work, pulling out the food items that she had brought from her house. Unsure if he would enjoy one of her truly vegetarian meals, she had brought some of the chicken they had purchased the other day. One of her favorite recipes involved double-breaded chicken using crushed pretzels and thyme in lieu of breadcrumbs. The fillets were then fried in coconut oil until crispy. Reasoning that Booth preferred heavy starches, she was also preparing mashed potatoes and had chosen freshly cooked carrots as a vegetable. Even though it seemed ridiculous, she hoped he would be pleased with her efforts.

Thirty minutes later the food was cooked and steaming in the serving dishes she'd found buried at the back of one of his cabinets. She was also quite proud of the fact that she had procured place settings for each of them. The place settings were laid out on the island in front of two of the barstools as that was where they had eaten the last time. Laying the last of the food out on the island, she went into the living room to find Booth.

Apparently, his t-shirt and jeans had not been comfortable enough as he had changed into a pair of well-worn sweatpants and a tank top. The television was blaring, as men in large padding zipped up and down a large rink with long sticks in what she assumed was some sports program; however, it was the living room floor that caught her off guard. Booth was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by all of the case files that they had collectively accumulated. He had a legal pad out and was making copious notes on that, while in the corner an easel held a giant Post-It Note pad with the beginnings of a graph that he had drawn in magic marker.

"I didn't realize you were working on the case," she said, picking her way through the mess and standing by his side.

He nodded, frowned, scribbled something illegible on his legal pad, and stood up to join her.

"I do this almost every case," he shrugged, taking her hand and leading her back out to the kitchen, "It might look messy but it helps me organize everything."

"I don't think I realized you did this much research and brainstorming outside of work," she admitted.

"Hey," he smiled, "Welcome to the life of a non-genius."

She smiled back, "Perhaps we can work together after dinner."

"Speaking of which," he inhaled deeply as they entered the kitchen and took their seats, "This smells delicious!"

"After heavy consideration I decided against tofu," she teased.

"Good choice," he replied drily, heaping a large portion of the mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"This," she told him, "Is chicken."

"You fried it?" he took several pieces onto his plate.

"In coconut oil, yes."

"It won't taste like coconuts will it?" he made a face.

"Not that I've ever noticed," she shook her head, taking some for herself, "And it's much healthier for you than vegetable oil."

Booth cut his chicken into pieces, dipped one piece in the mashed potatoes, and took a bite.

"This is great," he said around the food.

"Thank you."

"It doesn't taste like regular breading," he observed, swallowing, "What's the secret ingredient?"

"It's no secret," she said, "It's simply crushed pretzels and thyme."

"Do the pretzels have to age or something?" he looked confused.

"No," she shook her head, "Not 't-i-m-e' time, it's 't-h-y-m-e' thyme- though the two words are homophones so I can see where you would be confused."

"These carrots are good too," he changed the subject, "And the potatoes."

She beamed at his praise, relieved that he was enjoying the meal.

"Thanks, Bones," he told her, "Really, you didn't have to do this."

"You made me you world-famous Seeley Booth omelet," she pointed out, "It's only fair that I cook a meal for you."

"Parker would love this," Booth shoveled another bite into his mouth, "You should make it for him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow," he took a long swig of milk, "It's Friday, Bones. Remember, we were going to have our pancake breakfast with him tomorrow?"

"Actually, I hadn't," she admitted, "I'm afraid this week has passed by quite quickly."

He grinned, "'S okay. We were pretty busy. That reminds me though- Rebecca will be dropping him off soon, so we should start cleaning up."

This too came as a surprise to her, but she took it in stride, "Does she normally drop him off?"

"Sometimes," Booth said as they finished and began clearing the dishes, "Other times I pick him up at school. He had some kind of birthday party to go to tonight, though, so it's a little later than usual."

"And Rebecca does not mind me spending the night?" she wanted to be sure.

"Hey," he kissed her cheek, "Captain Fantastic spends plenty of nights over there so she can't say anything."

Brennan rolled her eyes, "I thought you weren't going to call him that anymore?"

"I don't. At least not in front of Parker," he wrapped his arms around her and made eye contact, "Look, you don't have anything to worry about okay? I talked to Parker and Rebecca earlier today and neither one of them has a problem with you being here. Rebecca told me it was about time and Parker was so excited he was making all kinds of plans for the three of us."

She let out a small sigh of relief before another thought occurred to her, "Did you consult Cam about our status change yet?"

He laughed, no doubt at her word usage, and nodded, "Cam figured it out on Wednesday when we got back from our road trip- I'm pretty sure Cullen knew then too."

"Cullen?" it came out as more of a shriek than a question.

"Oh yeah," he nodded, brushing stray hairs out of her face, "Now don't freak out on me. Both of them said they were happy for us."

"There was no talk of terminating our partnership?" he shook his head at her question, "And Cullen is not going to force us to go to some sort of dating couples' counseling?"

"Nope," he shook he head again, "And there is no way I am letting Sweets anywhere near this, either!"

"He would probably claim that it was no great surprise," she mused, then explained when he gave her a puzzled look, "If you'll remember, one of his first conclusions was that we shared a very deep connection and he was very interested for answers as to how we formed bonds outside of our surrogate relationship."

"Turns out the kid knew something after all," Booth leaned in again and had just deepened the kiss when the doorbell rang.

They separated instantly and Brennan went back to cleaning up the last of the food while Booth went to the door. She heard Parker's exclamations as he entered as well as Rebecca's hurried good bye. Apparently the party had run later than Rebecca had anticipated and she had to be somewhere early the next morning. Brennan heard rustling as Parker took of his coat, followed by hurried footsteps coming toward her.

"Dr. Bones," he greeted her with a wide smile, "Are you going to have pancakes with us tomorrow?"

She nodded, wiping her hands on a towel, "I'm planning on that, yes."

"Great!" the boy bounced up and down, "I'm happy you're here, Dr. Bones."

"Why is that?" she asked, honestly no knowing the answer.

Parker shrugged his shoulders exactly like Booth always did, "I dunno. You make my dad really happy, so that makes me happy. Hey, you wanna watch the game with us? The Flyers are going to kick ass!"

"Parker Booth!" the elder Booth came into the kitchen scolding, "We do not use that sort of language!"

"Yes sir," the boy hung his head, then mumbled, "Sorry, Dr. Bones."

"Apology accepted," she looked around the cleaned kitchen, "So are we going to watch the game?"

Parker perked up, but looked to his dad for permission.

"Go ahead," Booth told him, "It's already on the right channel."

Parker dashed into the living room at full speed and Brennan cringed, hoping he wouldn't injure himself en route.

"Sorry about that," Booth apologized once the television could be heard in the other room, "I don't let him use that kind of language."

"I wasn't offended," she assured him, placing a hand on his arm, "I do have a question, however."

"Ask away."

"What sport are we about to watch?"

"Hockey," he told her, "The Flyers are Parker's and my favorite team. There from Philly."

"Where you grew up?"

"Yup," he nodded, "No let's get going before he tears up the room."

She understood what he meant once they gained the living room. Parker had dragged out a large Flyers' pillow and was watching the game intently, getting extremely animated when his team did well or when they erred. She and Booth began quickly picking up all of the paperwork that he had left on the floor, though Parker didn't seem to think the mess was anything out of the ordinary. When they had finished she took a seat on the couch while Booth sprawled out on the floor at her feet to be next to Parker.

The next half hour was highly humorous for her as both Booth boys became involved in the game. Every time their team would get the small object- she couldn't determine what it was and she didn't want to interrupt- into the net, the living room would explode with male shouts and cheers. They would simultaneously stand up and bounce into each other. Of course Booth would never hit him hard, but Parker threw his full weight into each celebration.

"We won, Dr. Bones!" Parker shouted as a buzzer sounded, bringing the game to a close.

It crossed her mind that it was absurd for him to take credit for a game in which he'd not played, but having seen how emotionally invested in it he was she offered her congratulations and submitted to a high-five that left her palm stinging. Booth seemed equally elated and gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Celebration time!" Booth announced, pulling her onto her feet before wrapping an arm around his son's shoulder and steering him toward the kitchen.

Parker clamored up onto one of the barstools, waiting expectantly for something and Brennan took the seat across from him. Booth pulled a carton of ice cream from the freezer and proceeded to load three bowls with heaps of the cold treat, then he put a jar from the refrigerator into the microwave and pulled it out a few seconds later. He set the bowls, the jar of what she now saw to be hot fudge, and a can of whipped cream on the island and sat down beside her.

Parker eagerly reached for the fudge, but Booth intercepted him and doled it out himself. He did let Parker shake and squeeze out the whipped cream by himself. Then Booth decorated his own sundae and handed the toppings to her. She put on a modest amount, still wondering how she was going to finish all of the ice cream he had given her.

Booth and Parker chatted back and forth about the game and Booth filled him in on the earlier parts that Parker had missed. When the ice cream was finished and the bowls rinsed and put in the dishwasher, Booth announced that it was time for Parker to go to bed. She was surprised at how little of a fight Parker put up and even more surprised when he hugged her good night. She hugged back, feeling awkward, but happy to be included at the same time. The Booth men waved as they mounted the steps and the elder Booth promised he would be down in a few minutes.

She surveyed the kitchen and was satisfied that it was clean so she turned out the lights and headed into the living room. Stretching out on the couch she felt a wave of fatigue wash over her and she decided that it couldn't hurt to rest a bit until Booth came back down.


	33. Chapter 33

Booth supervised Parker as his on brushed his teeth and readied for bed. When he was done, Parker snuggled up underneath of his covers and Booth sat down beside him. Together, they took turns reading a chapter of The Mouse and the Motorcycle. Reading together before bed was a tradition they had started when Parker first began to read, and though he stumbled over some of the words it was something that they both enjoyed doing together at the end of the day.

"I like having Dr. Bones here," Parker told Booth when they had finished the chapter.

"So do I," Booth grinned.

"Do you love her?"

"I sure do."

Parker nodded, then asked, "Did you ever love Mom?"

"Of course I did," Booth stroked the boy's hair, "But things were different."

"Because of me?" Parker said quietly.

"No!" Booth said with feeling, "No, Parker, whatever went south with me and your mom was because of problems that _we_ had, not because of you. I know your mom and I don't get along all that great sometimes, but we fought a lot before you were born too, not just afterwards. You were the best thing we ever made- never doubt that. Your mom and I love you very much."

"I know, Dad," he smiled and Booth's heart melted at the sight, "So will Dr. Bones be my step-mom when you marry her?"

Booth prayed that Bones was not anywhere in hearing distance before answering, "Yup. _If_ she marries me, Buddy, and that's a big if. I haven't even asked her yet."

"You should," Parker yawned, "You guys are always happy together and she's a lot of fun."

"Just because I ask doesn't mean she'll say yes."

"She will," Parker was confident, "You guys look like my friend Jake's parents and they've been married for forever!"

"Forever, huh?"

"Yeah, like ten years, I think," Parker yawned again and hugged his dad one last time, "You should ask her Dad, 'cause then she can say yes. My teacher says you won't get any answers if you never ask any questions."

"Smart lady," Booth smiled, laying a kiss on his son's forehead, "Let's just keep this between you and me for now though, okay?"

"Okay. Night, Dad."

"Night, Parker. Sleep tight."

Booth shut off the light, closed the door, and was relieved to find the upper level of the house empty. The last thing he needed was for her to have been standing in the hallway listening. His thoughts drifted back to the ring that lay in his drawer at the Hoover Building. Some day soon he would work up the courage to ask her, but for tonight he would be content to have her here with him.

When he reached the lower level, all of the lights except the living room one were off and there wasn't a noise to be heard. Quietly, he entered the room and was not at all surprised to see Bones sound asleep on the couch. It had been a long week for both of them and he knew that the emotional toll on her had been heavy as well.

Grabbing the Flyer's pillow and the stack of files that had been neatly set to one side, he took out his legal pad and a pen, and went back to organizing his thoughts on the case.

They really didn't have much to go on yet. The forensic files that Bones had brought back from the lab may as well have been in Greek for all he understood. As near as he could tell, Clark hadn't found anything different than Bones and Angela. Hodgins had found plenty of particulates, though the findings were all listed in squint speak and Booth's translator was sound asleep.

Angela's background check was in plain English and he moved it over with the packet Charlie had handed him on his way out. Between Charlie and Angela and Booth's own receipt from the gift shop, Booth determined that Solomon's Island was where Candie had worked. She had only cashed four months' worth of paychecks from a joint called the Tiki Bar before dropping off of the map, but her savings account had a fair amount of money in it. He wondered if she had set that money aside to bring her children home with her as Maddie had claimed.

According to Angela's findings, she had been paying rent at a small house in the nearby town of Lusby and if Charlie's and Angela's numbers were correct, she hadn't had a lot of leftover cash from her job once the rent was paid. Her bills went back three months before the paychecks began and had all been paid with a credit card. She seemed to have kept up with the payments, though, and he was surprised to find she had a good credit rating. Fortunately, she had also used her debit card to pay for just about everything once she had started at the Tiki Bar, and had left an electronic trail that was easy to follow.

He also discovered in studying the local map that he had picked up at one of the shops while they had been there that the Calvert Cliffs State Park, where Candie's body had been found, was also in the town of Lusby. He had talked with Officer Watson earlier in the day and the other man had already cordoned off the rental house and had a guard stationed there until the FBI could collect evidence. Booth and his FBI forensics team had decided to go down first thing Monday morning and he made a note on his pad to tell Bones about it so that he wouldn't forget again.

He stretched, yawning in the process. It looked like they had done most of what they could do here in DC. Now it was time to head down to southern Maryland and start chasing down the leads that they had gathered so far. Making a few last notes, he set the files and his notes aside and stood up. They would most likely be spending a good chunk of the week down there so it was time to enjoy his bed while he had the luxury.

He gazed at Bones, still sound asleep on the couch and gently scooped her into his arms. She didn't react at all and his arms were getting sore by the time they reached the top of the stairs. He slipped off her necklace and set it on his nightstand, then undressed her and put her in her pajamas. She stirred a couple of times during the process, but never woke up. Tucking her under the covers, he went to lock up and turn off the lights before joining her himself. He was asleep within minutes.

The next morning he woke to find himself alone in the bed with only the faintest hint of her scent on the covers beside to suggest that she had been there. He could hear Parker's voice floating up the stairs and decided that Bones must be with him. Pulling on his sweatpants and tank top from the night before he headed downstairs.

As soon as he hit the hallway he was assaulted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and meat cooking. He took the stairs two at a time and walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Bones greeted him with a smile, "I hope you don't mind that we started cooking breakfast already. Parker was getting hungry."

"Fine with me, Temperance," he came around and kissed her on the cheek then ruffled Parker's hair, "You get a good sleep last night, Buddy?"

"Yeah," Parker said, flattening his hair back down, "Why'd you call Dr. Bones, Temperance?"

"Because that's her first name," Booth explained.

Parker frowned, "I thought her name was Bones, or Dr. Brennan."

He looked to Bones for help and she shot him a look that said she was enjoying watching him squirm, "Well, Bones is our special nickname for her, but I call her Temperance sometimes too."

"Because you're dating now?"

"Yup."

"Okay," Parker turned back to face Bones, awaiting her instructions on how to make the pancake batter.

Booth stood amazed as Bones patiently instructed Parker how to crack the eggs and measure the milk and the dry ingredients. It reminded him of how he had seen her teaching her grad students, except she was much less exacting with Parker. When the batter was mixed he offered to help cook them of the griddle but Parker said that Bones had offered to let him help and he wanted to make them with her. Bones looked at him apologetically and he shrugged it off- having her here was a novelty for Parker so Booth figured he would let his son enjoy her company.

While Bones and Parker were cooking the pancakes, Booth busied himself by setting the table out in the dining room. Normally, he and Parker would eat at the kitchen island, but there really wasn't enough room for three of them to eat a full meal there. He poured tall glasses of chocolate milk for himself and for Parker, but thought perhaps he should consult Bones before getting her one too. He did bring out the fresh pot of coffee that she had brewed and set a mug at her place and his own.

By the time he was finished, Parker was coming out of the kitchen with a plate full of pancakes. Booth cleared a place on the table for him to put the plate and went back to the kitchen to see if Bones needed any help. She was transferring sausages, which she had apparently been keeping warm in the oven, onto a dish. Parker came back into the kitchen and took the dish from her, his face beaming as he took it out to the dining room table.

As Bones was putting the pan down on the stovetop, the pan slipped out of her grasp and she instinctively grabbed for with her unprotected hand. She gave a sharp cry that tore at Booth's heart and the pan clattered to the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked, trying to assess how badly she was hurt.

She nodded silently though he could see her wincing in pain. He picked up the pan with a nearby towel and set it on the stove, relieved to find that it wasn't as hot as he had feared, then moved over to her.

"Show me," he said gently.

She opened up her hand. There were small red marks on each of her fingers, as well as where her palm had come in contact with the corner of the pan. It was all superficial but he could tell that she was still in pain. He eased her over to the sink and ran cool water over her hand for a few seconds. He dried her off as gently as he could and called for Parker.

"Would you run up and get the burn cream for me?" he asked his son.

"Is Dr. Bones okay?" Parker wanted to know.

"She'll be fine," Booth assured him, "Just some surface burns."

Parker nodded and dashed up the stairs to the bathroom as quick as he could. Less than a minute later he was back, the tube of burn cream in his hand.

"It's okay, Dr. Bones," Parker reassured her with a hug after he had given the burn cream to Booth, "Daddy burns himself a lot on pans and he gets better super fast with the burn cream."

"Thank you, Parker," Bones said kindly, "I'm sure I'll be just fine."

"You can go get started on the food if you want, Buddy," Booth told Parker, "I'll get Bones all patched up here and we'll be right out."

"Okay," Parker agreed to Booth's relief.

"Patched up?" she arched an eyebrow at him.

"Well," he shrugged, "I have a special treatment that I need to give you."

"Oh really?" she smiled.

He nodded and proceeded to plant feather-light kisses on each one of the angry red marks that were beginning to emerge. Then he took the tube of burn cream and applied it to each of them as gently as he could.

"Thank you, Seeley," she said softly when he was done.

"Anytime, Bones. You go ahead and take a few minutes to collect yourself if you need to," he smiled at her, "I'll go out and keep Parker company."

She nodded and he kissed her quickly on the lips and went out to join his son at the breakfast table, leaving a breathless Brennan in his wake.


	34. Chapter 34

She watched Booth walk out to the dining room and smiled as he threw one last look her way before joining Parker. A dull ache throbbed through her hand where it had been burned, though the salve Booth had applied did help ease the pain. He had told her to give herself a moment to regain her composure, but what he did not realize was that it was his ministrations- not the burns themselves- that had left her flustered and out of breath.

She had known for a long time now that Booth was a kind man. He never was rougher than he had to be; even with criminals who deserved no respect whatsoever. He also treated his peers and colleagues with kindness and respect and was well-liked because of it. Seeley Booth was the first FBI agent who had taken an interest in what the Jeffersonian could offer in terms of forensic applications and while he teased them and pushed them at times, it was never mean-spirited. He may have been highly skeptical about her and her team's abilities, but he had allowed them full participation in all of the investigations that they worked together and had vouched for them when Cullen had his doubts.

Since they had begun dating, however, she had witnessed first-hand just how tender Booth could truly be. Last night she knew he must have carried her up the stairs, and she had vague memories of his gently changing her into her nightclothes and removing her clunky jewelry. She had been grateful and had let him sleep in when she'd heard Parker stirring. Even then, as soon as he was awake he had come down and offered to help. She had been extremely impressed when he allowed Parker to continue making the pancakes with her with seemingly no offence taken.

When she had grabbed the pan with her bare hand her first reaction was to curse herself for being so foolish. She wasn't sure exactly what she had expected to do, but she certainly had not expected him to take charge as he had, nor had she expected the depth of feeling that was in his eyes when he asked her to show him her hand. Not since she was fifteen had she felt so secure and taken care of- or so loved.

Since Angela had talked with her at the lab she had begun wondering if she- Brennan- might possibly have been mistaken about the concept of love. She had consulted her dictionary and found that, while the word love could be a noun, Angela had indeed been correct in stating that love was a verb. In fact, it was both a transitive and intransitive verb- meaning that in some cases it required a direct object, while other times it did not. Booth's actions toward her indicated that _she_ was the direct object of his love, but a part of her wondered if he could say that the opposite was true.

It was definitely food for thought, and taking a final look at her injured hand, she vowed to try to be more aware of what his needs were and to show the same kindness and tenderness toward him as he had toward her. That determined, she went to see if the Booth boys had left her any food.

When she entered the room she could see through the open doorway that Parker had finished and was watching a television program in the living room. Booth was still at the table, though it looked like he was nearly done himself.

"We left you some sausage," Booth held up the dish with a wry grin.

"So kind of you," she returned, sitting down beside him and taking the pancakes that were before her instead.

"Your hand, okay?" he asked, his tone caring.

"Yes," she nodded.

He didn't ask any further questions- perhaps sensing that she was extremely hungry- but remained beside her long after he had finished his own meal.

"You don't have to stay with me," she told him between bites, "I'm sure Parker would appreciate you watching television with him."

"Parker's oblivious to everyone and everything right now except for his show," Booth smiled, "Besides, I like keeping you company."

She returned his smile, "Thank you again for taking care of my hand. I'm not sure what possessed me to try and catch a hot pan with my bare hand."

"Instinct," he shrugged, "And at least you just had them in the oven to keep warm, so it wasn't as hot as it could've been."

"My mother used to keep meat warm in the oven if she wasn't sure when my father would be coming home," Brennan explained, "She always told me that she knew she would want a hot meal after a long day at work so she figured he deserved the same- and he always seemed very grateful for it."

"Thanks, Bones," she gave him a quizzical look, not sure why he was thanking her, "For keeping the meat warm for me while I was asleep. It was a really kind thought on your part, though I'm sorry you got burned in the process."

"They're just surface wounds," she smiled, "And besides, I had a very good doctor take care of me."

He laughed, "And here I thought you were the doctor in the family."

"I keep telling you, Seeley, I am _not_ a medical doctor," she stuck her tongue out at him, then instantly regretted it as a gleam appeared in his eye.

"Time for your punishment," he whispered as he leaned in to capture her tongue in his mouth.

She leaned into the kiss rather than away from it, tasting the spicy flavors of the sausage he had obviously consumed. He placed his hands on her thighs and she felt her body take a sharp intake of breath before deepening the kiss further. The sound of a small throat being cleared stopped them both immediately.

"You guys are as bad as Mom and Drew," Parker complained, "They do have bedrooms for those sorts of things you know?"

Booth laughed, blushing, "Too much for you, little man?"

Parker nodded his head violently.

"Okay, kiddo," Booth told him, "We'll keep it PG from now on. And now that your show is on a break, how about putting your dishes in the kitchen?"

Parker groaned, but obeyed without question and Booth got up from the table, taking his own plate as well as some of the other empty dishes with him. Brennan finished the last of her pancakes and followed suit. When they were all done, they went into the living room to watch TV with Parker.

The show was a cartoon that involved the Justice League. Brennan recognized the Green Lantern character from Booth's graphic novel, along with Wonder Woman, and Superman. The plot was fairly straightforward and by the middle of the episode she had determined who the criminal was, though she enjoyed watching how the group worked together to foil the evildoer's plot and save the planet.

"So do you like the Justice League?" she asked Parker at the end of the episode.

"Oh yeah," he said, "I'm gonna be Superman for Halloween this year."

"I am always Wonder Woman," she informed him, ignoring the smirk that emerged on Booth's face.

"Cool!" Parker exclaimed, "Are you going to go trick-or-treating with us?"

"I don't know, Parker," she said hesitantly, "Wouldn't you mother want to take you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "She doesn't like Halloween and she always stays home and lets Dad take me out. Well, except for the nights he has to work like last year," he looked over at his father, "Hey, Dad, you should dress up like Hal Jordan. Then we could be our own mini Justice League!"

"Who is Hal Jordan?" Brennan asked.

"He's the head Green Lantern," Parker jumped in before Booth could answer, "He's dad's favorite and the guy on the movie sounds just like him!"

Parker ran up to the entertainment center and pulled out a DVD. He put it in the player and turned the TV to the correct channel, then turned to volume up higher.

"Listen," he said, skipping to a scene with the Green Lantern in it, "Doesn't that sound like Dad?"

Brennan had to admit that the cadence and timbre were extremely similar to Booth's and she nodded at Parker.

"Okay," Booth said, plucking the remote out of Parker's hand and turning everything off, "I'm sure Bones wants to do more than just sit in front of the TV all day."

Even if she had wanted to she would not have argued with him.

"I'll think about being Hal, okay, Park," he said, "But right now we all need to go get dressed in our non-superhero clothes."

Parker bobbed his head and dashed down the hallway and up the stairs, slamming the door to his room so loudly that they could hear it from where they stood.

"Kid's got two speeds," Booth shook his head, "Fast and faster."

They walked up to Booth's bedroom at a much more leisurely pace, though Booth did stop outside of Parker's door to tell him not to slam it again.

The rest of the day was highly enjoyable from Brennan's point of view. They went to the park and played for several hours. Booth and Parker tried to demonstrate how to throw a perfect spiral pass with their football and while she never quite got a hold of the concept she did take pleasure in the experience and felt that she improved as the afternoon went on.

Parker also proudly took her to the tree that had held the nest in which he had found the finger and she restrained herself from telling him that she had been there during the investigation. She also restrained herself from laughing as he told the entire tale of how the murderer was caught from his perspective as Booth's son. At the end he asked her if she had been with Booth on that case and she assured him that she had.

They ate lunch at the diner and then later that night Brennan made Chicken Parmesan from the leftover chicken that she had made the previous night, serving it with spaghetti and garlic bread that Booth and Parker had prepared. Exhausted from the day, Parker was begging to go to bed by eight o'clock. Booth had no problems with that and made Brennan promise that she would not fall asleep while he was putting Parker to bed. She agreed and was touched when Parker once again gave her a hug before going to bed.

When the living room was quiet again, she took out the thick stack of files that had been neatly stacked in the corner. Somewhere in Maryland a killer was walking around free and as much as she had enjoyed the days' activities, it was time to refocus and get back to work.


	35. Chapter 35

Booth was pleasantly surprised to fine Bones wide awake and reviewing the case files when he came down from putting Parker to bed. The kid had been so zonked he'd gotten into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and gone straight to bed. Booth wasn't complaining, though, it had been a long day and he was ready to relax and enjoy some uninterrupted time with Bones.

"Hey," he greeted her, "You want anything to drink before I join you?"

"No thank you," she shook her head, "I'm not particularly thirsty right now."

"Okay," he sat down beside her, extending the footrest from underneath the couch so that they could stretch out together, "Find anything interesting?"

"Nothing more than what you found," she handed him his legal pad, "Your system is quite different from mine, but they seem to be equally effective."

"Thanks," he had learned to take her backhanded compliments without it bothering him.

"I'm being sincere, Seeley," she looked up from the paperwork to meet his eyes, "You are very good at your job and I doubt we would be such an efficient team without your intuitive insights."

"Yeah well, you can tell things from bones that I could never figure out no matter how intuitive I am," he assured her.

She nodded, "We complement each other very well."

"That's the one that means we were meant for each other, right?" he grinned teasingly at her.

"In the vernacular I _suppose_ you could infer that meaning," she told him straight-faced.

"I was kidding, Bones."

"I wondered if you were but was not certain," she admitted, "My ability to read body language and intent is somewhat lacking."

"Hmm," Booth pulled her close to him, "Sounds like you need lessons from the Seeley Booth School of Love, Dr. Brennan."

"Will I get bonus points for sleeping with the professor?" she arched one eyebrow teasingly.

"Oh yes," Booth waggled both of his eyebrows, "Now, what am I trying to tell you with my body language?"

She looked down, of all places, at his midsection, "I believe part of you wishes to make love to me, though I suspect that- for the most part- you are flirting with me."

"Right on both counts, I'm afraid," Booth smiled sheepishly, "Now why don't you snuggle really close and tell me what you thought of my brilliant, intuitive case work, and then we can reward ourselves later?"

She moved so that their legs were touching from the thighs down and set the files on their collective lap. Together they pored over all of the pieces of the puzzle, adding to the list on his legal pad as new facts were brought to life. She easily decoded Hodgins' techno-babble, which told them that while most of the particulates collected were to be expected for a body buried in the sand for so many months, there were a few things that the entomologist thought may have come over with the victim from the original crime scene, including a shard of quartz rock that he claimed would not have been found in that environment.

Clark's report had ruled out the iron bar that had been recovered at the crime scene as the murder weapon. The intern noted that the weapon they were looking for needed to be less dense and have a broader base than the iron bar had. He also had not found any other marks that would tell them exactly what had been used. Booth wondered idly if Zack would have been able to pick up anything else, but shoved the thought aside.

When they were done collecting the facts, they set that aside and focused on the Lane kids' case. Brennan filled out her statement without looking at what Booth had written earlier, then they compared notes. They wrote down every possible indicator that the children had been abused and she offered to type it up for him the next day.

"You're not my secretary, Temperance," he argued.

"No," she agreed, "But I am your partner _and_ your girlfriend, so I should be allowed to shoulder some of the responsibilities. Besides, aren't you the one who is always telling me that it's not a bad thing to accept help?"

"Fine," he gave in, "But only if your hand is up to it. No typing if your hand starts to hurt.

She looked down at it, as if she had just remembered that she burnt it earlier that morning, "I'll be fine, Seeley. I've worked through steam burns that were worse than this."

He took her hand into his and examined it thoroughly. The marks were still there, but not nearly as angry red as they had been. Some of them had already started to fade, though most were now smooth blisters and she winced when he brushed over the largest one.

"Don't push yourself," he said gently, kissing her palm and setting it back in her lap.

"I won't," she promised, picking up the legal pad to review it again, "What's this notation for?" she pointed to a scribble in the margins.

"Oh," he said, "That's to remind me to tell you that we're heading back down with the tech team on Monday to go over Candie's rental house and follow up on our other leads."

"A good thing you wrote that," she said drily.

"Yeah well, good thing you're here to keep me on my toes about these things," he laced his fingers with hers, grateful that her hand that wasn't injured was the one closest to his, "And you'll probably want to pack an actual suitcase this time. Who knows how long we'll be down there."

"I'll need to go home at some point tomorrow, then," she told him, "I was going to ask if we could stop by there anyway since I am running out of clean clothes."

"How about after we drop Parker off?" he suggested, "I have to have him at Rebecca's by two and your place is more or less on the way back from there."

"That seems logical," she nodded, then let out a loud yawn.

He plopped the stack of filed on the floor, pushed the handle to fold the footrest back inside the couch, and announced to Bones that it was time for bed. She argued less than Parker had and they walked hand in hand upstairs to the bedroom. When they got to the bathroom her released her hand with a kiss and told her he'd be right in.

When he rejoined her she was in her pajamas and scurrying about the room. A small sadness came over him as he realized she was packing her bag for the trip back to her apartment. Impulsively, he flung his closet door open and began shifting things over in it.

"Temperance," he called, not surprised when she didn't respond, "Hey, Bones!"

That got her attention. She looked up from the clothes she was folding.

"Why don't you leave your dirty stuff here and I'll wash it?" he pointed to the hamper in his closet, "I've gotta do laundry tomorrow anyway."

"If you're sure," she said warily, "I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

"You're not," he assured her.

She dumped the contents of the bag that she had just finished neatly packing and brought the armload of clothes over to his hamper. Meanwhile, he stripped down to his boxers and settled under the covers. She turned out the main light and joined him and he turned off the light that sat on his nightstand, plunging the room into darkness.

He lay on his side, facing her, and waited for her to come into his arms. He did not have a long wait.

"Booth," she said thoughtfully, "Are we moving in together?"

The question took him aback a little, though he supposed it shouldn't have considering he had just offered to do her laundry.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"Neither do I," she sighed, "It's all very confusing."

"What's confusing you, Bones?" he asked softly.

She turned in his arms to face him, though he could only make out the outline of her face.

"According to my research," she started, "At this stage in our courtship we should be getting to know each other: personalities, likes, dislikes, etcetera. We should be going out on outings and discovering what we do and do not enjoy doing together. Some sources also claimed that sex could be an indicator of a good or bad match, though that seemed rather shallow to me.

"If, after a period of six months or so, we decided that we were truly compatible, moving would be the next step in the relationship. This stage, lasting anywhere from six months to two years from what I could gather, would be followed by an engagement period in most traditional cases and a wedding about a year thereafter. In non-traditional relationships it seems the couples simply commit to a monogamous relationship until one or both partners decide to 'break things off' as it were. In rare instances the engagement period is skipped altogether and an elopement takes place.

"What confuses me is that I am not certain which stage we are in."

Booth tried to contain every shred of laughter that was threatening to burst out and failed when he felt his shoulders shake from the effort.

"Are you laughing at me?" the slight hurt in her tone instantly sobered him.

"No," he assured her, tracing his finger lovingly along the outline of her face, "I am laughing because that little speech was completely 'you' and the unique way you look at the world."

"Of course it was me," the hurt was replaced with confusion.

"What I mean is, most women don't do a research paper on the stages of a relationship, but you," here he smiled and put all of the tenderness he could into his next words, "You, my dear Temperance did just that, and I love you all the more for it."

"You do?"

"Yup," he nodded his head, "That speech told me a few things, the most important being that you've put a lot of time and thought into this relationship."

"I told you from the beginning," she said, "I value my relationship with you more highly than any other person I can think of- and yes, I have put considerable thought into our relationship. Angela informed me the other day that the word love is a verb. I had not considered that before and have since put a great deal of effort into determining exactly how that relates to us and what my role should be in the process."

"You want this to work," he stated, "So of course you would throw yourself into it full-force."

"Yes," she replied, "I do want this relationship to last. But I am utterly at a loss as to what the proper steps are as I have never truly sought a long-term relationship before."

His heart leaped at the words "long-term relationship" and he felt like a coward for leaving her ring at the office.

"Well," he said finally, "When it comes to us you can pretty much throw the rule book out entirely."

"Angela says that we have been dating for virtually four years already," she offered.

"She's not too far off," Booth agreed, "I mean, we couldn't stand each other to begin with but that didn't last long and we've been friends ever since."

"But we've dated other people in the interim," she countered, "So it's not as if it's been monogamous."

"Maybe not in a dating sense, no, but our work partnership has forced us to either stick it out through the rough patches or fail. All those trust exercises and shrinky dink sessions that we had to go to are way more than what the average couple gets in a lifetime and they really did help us work through some stuff."

"What are you saying, Booth?"

"I don't know, Bones- not all of the answers at least. What I do know is that I love the thought of us going through life like we have the last couple of days. I like driving home with you from work, cooking dinner together, cleaning up together, watching TV with you on one side and Parker on the other; the mundane stuff. I also really liked working on the case together with you tonight- I mean, I know we've worked on plenty of cases together but tonight it just felt like we were even more in synch than we normally are.

"I love just doing this- talking together in bed about the things that really matter and going to sleep with you next to me. I love you, Dr. Temperance Brennan: world-renowned forensic anthropologist, best-selling author, and most importantly, my Bones."

"So is that a proposal?" she moved closer to him and he could see her eyes shining in the darkness.

"It's a commitment," he told her, "To whatever stage you're ready to be at."

He could almost see the gears in her brain working genius-level fast to process everything he'd just unloaded on her.

"I accept," she replied finally, "And though traditionally this stage of a relationship is sealed with the giving of an engagement ring, for tonight I believe we can satisfy it with a kiss."

"So that means…" he trailed off, not about to misinterpret what she was telling him.

"That I consent to pursuing a long-term relationship with you and that I recognize you to be a man of deep convictions and morals who would never be truly satisfied outside of a traditional marriage commitment. This is my way of making you the direct object of my act of love."

He had no clue what that last part meant, but he realized that she was sacrificing a huge part of herself to be with him, "Helluva lotta heart, Bones," he told her.

"I had a good teacher," she told him, "Now make love to me, Seeley Booth."

And so he did.


	36. Chapter 36

Brennan awoke refreshed and acutely aware that she was alone in Booth's bed. She found it odd that he wasn't there considering their conversation the previous night, but decided that perhaps he got up with Parker as she had the morning before. She stretched and got up, stopping at the bathroom before descending the stairs.

Instead of a bustling kitchen, however, she discovered a note in the middle of the kitchen's island with her name written in Booth's familiar scrawl. It explained that he had attempted to wake her earlier, but she had turned over and gone back to sleep. He and Parker were at Mass and would return by noon and she was free to help herself to the donuts he had picked up early that morning. His last message was rather cryptic and told her only that there was something for her on top of the files in the living room.

Yawning, she opened the box of donuts that lay on the counter and selected a Boston cream one before pouring herself a cup of coffee that Booth had kept warming for her in the urn. She sat down at the island and ate in silence, considering how last night's events had unfolded. Unless she was mistaken, she had all but proposed marriage to Booth and he had accepted. She found that she didn't regret making the offer- she knew that it was something Booth truly wanted- but hoped that she had not rushed into things or made an unwise decision in the process.

Dabbing her mouth with a napkin she took her mug of coffee and decided to investigate what Booth had left for her in the living room. There was another note waiting for her when she got there.

_Traditionally, I'd get down on one knee to give you this. But I figured since you were the one who proposed, you can decide when you want to wear it._

_I Love you,_

_Seeley_

Beneath where the note had been, she found a small box that she knew could contain only one thing. She took the box in her hand and stared at it for several minutes before getting up from the couch and hastily going back up to the bedroom. With little thought to what she was doing, she got dressed as quickly as she could, all the time clinging to the box with one hand or the other. She was fully dressed and about to grab her keys when she realized that they would do her no good as Booth had driven her here and she had no car.

Sitting back down on the bed she realized that she had no notion as to where she would go if she did have a car. Her first choice would have been Booth, but he was too close to the situation, obviously. Angela was her next choice, but she and Hodgins had set off on a weekend excursion and Brennan did not wish to disturb them. Trembling, she reached for the phone and called the only other person she could think of.

"Tempe!" Max Keenan's overly cheerful voice greeted her, "How are you, Sweetheart?"

"I don't know, Dad," she admitted, "I'm just not sure what to do."

"Where are you?" his voice was now laced with concern, "Are you all right?"

"I'm at Booth's" she said softly, "I'm not injured, simply confused."

"Just give me his address and I'll be over as quick as I can," he told her.

She did and he reiterated that he would be there shortly and they hung up. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She was waiting in the entryway for him and opened the door within seconds of his knock. Flustered and feeling as if she were a young girl again she fell into his arms.

"Hey, baby," Max soothed, "What's wrong?"

She allowed him to lead her back to the living room and they sat down, "I don't know. I- I feel as if the world is changing around so fast that I'm losing my equilibrium."

"Look," Max tilted her chin, "I'm sure Booth will be a great dad. Look how good he is with Parker and he's a stand-up guy too so I'm sure he'll do the right thing by you."

That was enough to wake her from her stupor and she pulled back from him, "I'm not pregnant, Dad! What gave you that idea?"

"I don't know," Max shrugged with a grin, "You were talking about the world changing and you losing your equilibrium so I assumed-"

"Wrongly," she told him, frowning, "And why would you think that Booth and I have a sexual relationship?"

"You don't?" he looked confused.

"Well we do," she admitted, "But only just recently and I hadn't called to inform you about it."

"Okay, you're going to have to start spelling things out more clearly for me, Honey, 'cause I am really lost now," Max told her, "How long have you and Booth been dating?"

"A week," she said, "Though we've only been sleeping together since Tuesday morning."

"Good to know," he chuckled, though she had the distinct impression that was not his true meaning, "So why am I here? And why isn't Booth here?"

"Booth is with Parker at Mass, which he tried to wake me for but I was asleep," she began, "I was asleep because we were up late last night and during the course of our discussion I told Booth that I would consent to marrying him if he wanted that. I, of course, still hold that marriage is an antiquated ritual and archaic at several different levels, however I realize that Booth would be more satisfied in a legally binding monogamous relationship.

"Angela told me that love is a verb and therefore requires action. Marriage to Booth is the action I choose to take in order to demonstrate my love for him and show my sincerity in wanting to pursue a long-term relationship."

"So you proposed to Booth and he said yes," Max interpreted.

"Correct," she nodded, "However, this morning I awoke to find that he had left this," she produced the box, holding it in the palm of her hand."

"What's in it?"

"I presume that it is some sort of engagement ring," she said, "Which means that Booth has been contemplating a marriage proposal for quite some time now and it leaves me uneasy as he knows my stance on marriage."

"A stance which you've already compromised by proposing to him first," Max pointed out, "Have you even opened the box to make sure it's not earrings or something else?"

"I sincerely doubt that earrings would have come with this," she held out Booth's note for him to read.

"Nope," Max shook his head once he'd read the note, "Seems like there's a ring in there to me."

He reached over and gently took the box from her hand and pried the lid open. The open lid was facing her so she still could not see inside even if she had wanted to.

"Temperance," her father said tenderly, "I think your Booth loves you very much. I think you were thrown off because he's obviously had this for some time. Maybe he bought it last week, maybe last month, maybe years ago- and that's bothering you because you only got to that point last night. But it doesn't matter because he never asked; he waited for you to bring it up and I'm sure you floored him when you did.

"You not says that _you_ get to decide when to put it on, not him. I think that's why he left it here for you when he wasn't around. He is doing everything in his power to make sure that this is _your_ decision too. That's a good man, Tempe. Booth is a good man."

"He is," she nodded, then she looked into her father's eyes, "Would you put it on me? I'm not sure I will if you don't."

"You would," he kissed her forehead gently, "You love him too."

"I truly believe that I do."

She felt more than watched him take her left hand and slip the ring against the distal phalanx of her fourth digit, over two interphalangeal joints, until it came to rest on the proximal phalanx. Slowly, she looked down. There was no golden ring, as she had expected and no diamond solitaire either, but instead there were two sliver dolphins in motion, supporting a beautiful turquoise stone between them.

She realized instantly that this was no family heirloom, or the ring that Rebecca had rejected when he'd proposed to her. This ring, no matter how long ago it was purchased, was for one woman and one woman only- her.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"The perfect engagement ring for my little girl," Max agreed, pulling her into his embrace.

She embraced him in return and thanked him. Just as he was standing to excuse himself she heard a key slip into the lock at the front door. Booth was home.


	37. Chapter 37

At five o'clock Sunday morning, a noise broke through Booth's sleep and his eyes popped open, all of his sniper-honed reflexes instantly kicking in. It came again and he smiled as he realized it was Bones, sound asleep, a soft snore issuing through her lips. She was on her side, facing him, her hair framing her face perfectly, and her face completely at peace. It was a beautiful sight and it took all of his restraint not to reach out and touch her- he did not want to break the spell.

As he watched her sleep, his heart rate calmed and the adrenaline eased, but he found he could not get back to sleep. His mind had turned to their conversation last night. They were engaged- at least as near as he could tell they were- and he was still cursing himself for not having the ring there for her. Five sleepless, restless minutes later he decided it was time to change that.

Slipping quietly and gently out of bed so as not to wake Bones, Booth dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and headed out. Fifteen minutes later he was at the Hoover Building, praying desperately that no one he knew would be here this early on a Sunday morning. He made it to his office without seeing anyone but the security guard and breathed a sigh of relief.

Opening the desk drawer he dug around with his hand until it found small bag that held the ring. Pulling it out, he threw the bag away, leaving the box sitting in his palm. The last time he had looked at it, he had wondered if she would ever say yes. Now, it was no longer a question of when to give it to her, but how.

He could tell from her speech last night that she was still not a fan of doing things the traditional way- not that he had thought she would be in the first place, but now he was sure. That eliminated the down-on-one-knee approach and the more he thought about it the more he wondered what her reaction would be. It wasn't that he thought she wouldn't like the ring- he knew she would- but he also didn't want to put her in a position that would pressure her. If they were going to really and truly be engaged, she needed to be the one with the final say.

He left the office and was once again happy that no one but security officers were there. On the way home he stopped for a box of donuts, figuring that they would make a good Sunday morning breakfast. He spent the rest of the drive contemplating his next move.

By the time he got back it was close to seven and he could hear Parker stirring upstairs.

"Hi, Dad," Parker bounded down the steps with a grin.

"Hey kiddo," Booth grinned back, ruffling Parker's hair, "You sleep okay?"

"Yup," Parker noticed the box in Booth's hands, "Are those donuts?"

"Uh-huh," Booth nodded as they moved into the kitchen.

He set the box down on the island and opened it, not surprised at all when Parker reached for one of the ones coated with sprinkles. They sat together munching their donuts while Booth's coffee brewed in the percolator.

"Where's Dr. Bones?" Parker asked, "Is she coming to Mass with us?"

"She's sleeping," Booth told him, "I'm not sure if she's coming with us or not."

"Oh, okay," the boy munched on his donut.

"Here," Booth handed parker a napkin, "Clean up and go get ready. I'll go see if Bones is awake."

"You should kiss her if she's not," Parker suggested, "That always works in the movies."

Booth thought back to the last time he had woken her with a kiss and smirked, "If she's asleep I'll let her sleep. She's had a tough week, Kiddo."

"Doesn't she do the same job as you?" Parker tilted his head.

"Well, we work together," Booth tried to explain, "But sometimes her job means later hours and more demanding work than mine, like this week."

"Is that 'cause she's a scientist?" Parker wanted to know.

"Sort of," Booth said, "Though sometimes I end up doing more work than her so it balances out in the end."

"Sometimes you get shot at," his son nodded soberly.

"Comes with the territory, Buddy," Booth told him, "Sometimes you have to sacrifice living the easy life to help other people."

"I know, Dad," Parker said, "You're a real-life hero- even better than Hal Jordan!"

"Thanks," Booth said.

Parker gave him a quick hug and dashed upstairs to get dressed. Booth rolled his eyes, if Bones hadn't been up she was sure to be now. He headed up to her, the ring embedded deep in his pants' pocket.

She was, in fact, asleep. He tried whispering her name several times and even lightly shook her once, but she merely grunted and turned back over. As he stood over her he decided to let her sleep. He also decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to give her the ring in a way that would not put any pressure on her.

Grabbing a sheet of paper, he wrote the first words that came to his mind; nothing long, just something to let her know that he loved her and was willing to move at her pace, whatever that might be. He folded the note and set it with ring on the nightstand. Five minutes later he was dressed and about to leave when he noticed that the note had fallen onto the floor. He also realized that since it was not her nightstand, she might not think to look at it.

Putting the note and the ring inside the breast pocket of his suit, he decided he would leave it somewhere downstairs for her to find instead. When he reached the bottom of the steps he noticed Parker munching another donut in the kitchen, eliminating that as a place to put the ring- he didn't want to explain things to Parker right before Mass.

Quickly, he went into the living room and left the ring and the note on top of the case files they had been working on the night before. He grabbed a separate sheet of paper from his legal pad and hastily scrawled a note, letting her know where he and Parker were, and that she had refused to wake up when he'd tried.

Just in case Parker decided to sneak a look at the note, he made the line about looking at the case file cryptic. He hoped that she wouldn't put that off, though she had said that she was going to type everything up for them so the odds were good she would look there anyway. He left the note on the island by the donuts and he and Parker headed off to Mass.

It was a long morning. He couldn't concentrate the entire time they were in the church as his mind kept wondering if she was awake yet, and if so what her reaction would be when she finally found the ring. One part of his mind reminded him that she was at his house with no car of her own so she would probably still be there when he got back. The other part of his mind reminded him that this was the woman who had managed to escape the clutches of the Gravedigger so she could easily either call a cab or leave if she really wanted to.

Booth and Parker were halfway home when he came out of his stupor.

"Parker," he called to boy in the backseat, "I have something to tell you."

Parker's head came up instantly and a grin spread across his face, "Did Dr. Bones say yes, Daddy? Is she going to be my stepmom now?"

"Actually," Booth wasn't sure exactly how to explain what had gone on last night to his son, "I was the one who said yes."

"You mean _she_ asked _you_?" he seemed to the consider that, "Are girls allowed to do that?"

"Yes she did and yes they are," Booth smiled, "The guy _is_ usually the one who does the asking, but girls are allowed to too."

"Oh," Parker said, "I didn't know that. So didja give her a ring? Or did she give you one?"

Booth laughed, "I had already gotten her one, so I left it for her to find before we left this morning. I'm not sure when she'll put it on or even when we're getting married, yet."

"Will I get brothers and sisters now?" Parker wanted to know.

"Not right away, that's for sure," Booth told him, "And when we do they'll probably be older. I think Dr. Bones would really like to adopt kids."

"How come?"

Maddie, Joey, and Sadie's faces came to Booth's mind; children who had no one in the world to love them and care for them, "Because some kids don't have a Mommy and daddy who love them like you do, Kiddo. There are tons of kids in the foster system who would love to be adopted but probably never will be."

"There's kid in my class who's a foster kid," Parker said knowingly, "But he's really nice so why wouldn't anyone want to adopt him?"

"Most people who adopt want a baby," Booth explained as honestly as he could, "And some people think that older kids can cause more trouble or be more of a hassle than a baby."

"Heh," Parker waved his hand, "Babies are loud and noisy and boring. Kids are more fun."

Booth smiled and decided to drop the subject as they pulled onto their street.

"Who's car is _that_?" Parker asked, pointing to a dark blue sedan that was parked in their driveway.

"Max," Booth smiled and shook his head, pleasantly surprised that she had called her dad, but not at all disappointed, "That's Bones' dad's car," he explained aloud to Parker, "I think he's here for lunch."

"Cool," Parker said, hopping out of the car and bounding to the front door.

Booth caught up with him at the front door and stuck his key in the lock only to discover that it was already unlocked. He opened it slowly, wondering what he would find inside.

"Go up and get changed before we eat lunch," he told Parker as they entered, "You can visit with Bones and Max when you're done."

Parker nodded without question and headed up the stairs as quickly as he could.

Bones was standing in the hallway, Max just behind her when Booth turned away from Parker. She seemed not to be too upset at least, and a funny half-smile played around the corners of her mouth.

"Max," Booth acknowledged the other man's presence, "Would you like to stay for lunch?"

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition," the older man told him, "And I think you two have a lot to talk about without me hanging around."

Booth took one look at Bones who was begging him with her eyes not to let her dad go yet.

"Stay," Booth insisted, "Parker will be here too and he wants to meet you."

"Okay," Max agreed, seeming to catch on, "I think I'll go use your little boys room though if you don't mind?"

Booth nodded that he didn't and Max moved past him and headed upstairs, leaving the newly engaged couple alone in the hall.

"How was Mass?" she asked suddenly.

"Alright," he shrugged, "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I did, thank you. I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier."

"I wasn't offended," he grinned, "You looked like you needed the sleep."

Small talk at an end, they simultaneously headed for the living room and sat down on the couch.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

She nodded, "My father was a much greater asset than I've given him credit for in the past."

"Good."

"I found something interesting on top of the case files," she smirked, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Oh yeah," he lifted an eyebrow teasingly, "Some new break in the case?"

"Something new, yes," she said, "But nothing to do with the case."

She took her left hand from where she'd been keeping it hidden and placed it on his lap, "It's beautiful, Seeley."

He looked down at her hand and smiled, especially when he saw that it fit her perfectly.

"I love you," he told her.

"I know," she nodded.

"And you're good with this?" he fingered the ring where it lay on her finger, thinking it was one of the most thrilling sensations he had ever experienced.

"Yes," she nodded again, "I am. Are you? I am not certain that I am the ideal candidate for a wife."

"You're the only one in my book," he told her, kissing the ring and her finger, "I am definitely okay with this."

They both leaned forward and their lips met in the middle and he pulled her to him for a nice, long kiss.


	38. Chapter 38

**I just picked up some new hours at work through the month of December, so the chapters will be coming more sporadically from now on. Thank you to all who have reviewed!**

**-Gum**

Their kiss was interrupted by her father's entrance into the living room.

"Parker told me to watch out for you guys when I came in here," Max smirked, "We called for a couple of pizzas so we'll just wait out in the kitchen," he gestured back at the hall.

She nodded her acknowledgement- knowing too that her entire face was blushing by now- and Max waved as he went back to Parker. Booth seemed to hardly notice the exchange and was instead mesmerized by the ring on her finger.

"We should go out with them," she told him softly, "Or separate long enough so that they feel comfortable coming in here."

"Max's got things under control," he assured her, reaching back to recline the end seat and extend the footrest, "Right now I want to be alone with my fiancé."

A part of her still wanted to run while she had a chance. There was so much that could go horribly wrong and the last thing she wanted was another broken relationship. He patted the seat beside him and offered her one of his warm, tender smiles, reaching over to trace his fingers along her arm. She moved over beside him and extended her legs to lay parallel with his, their fingers intertwining almost unconsciously.

Her head drooped onto his shoulder, weary from the morning's emotional upheaval and he let go of her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her and let her rest on his broad chest. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his musky cologne. Her mind flashed back to the night at the karaoke club when Booth had been shot. That night she had laid her hands on his chest, breathed in the same scent she was inhaling now, and begged him not to die. It felt good to feel his chest moving up and down now, his heart beating at a healthy rate and she felt secure in his arms.

The doorbell rang announcing the arrival of the pizza. She heard Max greet the man at the door, pay him, and thank him for the prompt delivery. The door closed and Max appeared once again in the living room doorway.

"Chow's here," he held the two pizza boxes aloft, "Park and I set the table so whenever you two want to grace us with your presence."

Booth smiled up at her father and pulled the lever to release the footrest. He stood up and offered her his hand, which she accepted, allowing him to pull her to her feet as they joined their respective family members for lunch.

It was a good meal. To be sure it was not the healthiest meal that she had ever eaten; however, it was fascinating to watch the two most important men in her life interact together. As she mentally reviewed their past history, she realized that the two men had held a mutual respect for each other for quite a while now. Throughout her father's incarceration and trial Booth had done everything he could to reunite father and daughter. He had encouraged her to visit her father in prison and reassured her every time she doubted Max's true intentions. He had taught her to look beyond what Max had done in the eyes of the law and see when he had done to protect her and Russ. He had kissed her underneath the mistletoe and hooked a tree full of lights to his SUV so that they could have Christmas together as a family.

"You think she's cogitating some deep, dark, thoughts?" she heard Booth joke with Max.

"Nah," Max waved a hand, "That's her sentimental look. She used to always get that faraway glaze over her eyes when she was remembering something that had happened in the past."

"So how do you break the spell?" Booth sounded impressed and intrigued.

"Oh she'll come back to the present eventually," Max assured him, "Looks like she's halfway there already."

"Parker," she turned to the boy, who had seated himself next to her, "Our fathers are incorrigible."

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"It means there is little hope for them ever growing up," she smiled, "Now, would you like to help me clear the dishes, or shall we leave the boys to it?"

"I say we let them do it," her co-conspirator said with an all too familiar grin, "You and me can play Wii!"

She wasn't entirely sure what the last part of his sentence meant, but she did not want to give either of the two men fodder to tease her so she nodded as if she'd understood Parker completely. They exited the dining room and went into the living room.

When Booth and her father joined them several minutes later, she was engrossed in her game with Parker. It turned out that the Wii was the name of a sophisticated video game system that integrated a player's body movements with their chosen character on the game. Parker had created an avatar of her that he called a Mii and had proceeded to instruct her how to play. She found that once she had grasped the basic controls, it was extremely simple to excel.

Currently, she was tied with Parker as they entered the final frame in the bowling game. Parker took his turn and scored a strike, followed by seven pins in the extra frame that he was granted. He moved aside and cheered her on and she prepared for her turn. Blocking everything and everyone else out, she took aim and bowled the virtual ball- it rolled down precisely as she had planned and resulted in a strike. Three male voices cheered and she allowed herself a small grin, then refocused as her bonus frame came up. Once again, she took careful aim and swung her arm, releasing the buttons at the exact level and angle so as to result in another strike.

The ball traveled exactly how she had anticipated it would until it got to the final part of the lane at which point it curved slightly, missing the pin that she had been aiming for. Six of the virtual pins crashed over and one teetered, but never fell. She was so flustered that her final shot missed entirely and went into the gutter without hitting a single pin. Her shoulders slumped dejectedly as she realized she had lost by one point.

"Good job, Dr. Bones," Parker jumped up and down excitedly, "Even Dad doesn't do that good against me! I bet you'll cream me next time."

Brennan looked around the room and realized that she was the only person who was disappointed with her performance. Parker, nowhere near gloating, continued to rattle off advice as to how she could improve the next time, while her father had a bemused look on his face and gave her a "thumbs up" gesture and a grin. Booth was smiling as well, though he at least seemed to understand her frustration and gave her a small hug before dismissing Parker to get ready to go back to his mother's house. Parker nodded and put away his control stick before running down the hallway and up the stairs.

Shortly after that her father said that it was time he was heading home as well and to make sure that he received an invitation to the wedding. She wondered if perhaps he thought that she would not wish for him to attend given their past, however as he left she noticed the gleam in his eye and realized that he was merely teasing her again.

An hour later she and Booth had dropped Parker off at Rebecca's house and were on their way to Brennan's apartment so that she could collect more of her things as well as pack for their trip to southern Maryland the next day. Booth offered to stay at her place for the night so that she didn't have to keep going back and forth, but she declined, pointing out that he had not brought a change of clothes for himself, nor had he packed his own clothes for the upcoming trip. She also thought that perhaps she would challenge him to a game of virtual bowling, though she did not speak that thought aloud.

She had just zipped up her smallest suitcase when she heard Booth's phone ring. Hefting the bag, she went out to where he was waiting in the living room. She would leave the bag with him while she packed more of her groceries for transport to his townhouse. As she approached, however, she realized that all was not right on the other end of the phone. Booth was attempting to calm the other person down and motioned vehemently for her to come over.

He pushed a button and the speakerphone option on his phone was activated.

"Please, Mr. Booth," the voice on the other end was in tears and Brennan immediately identified it as Maddie Lane, "You gotta do something," the rest was unintelligible as the girl's sobs increased.

"Madeline," she spoke softly but firmly, remembering how Booth always called her Temperance when he wished to focus her attention or help her calm down, "Madeline, this is Dr. Bones. You must calm down so that Agent Booth and I can understand you."

"Pop and Nana came today," she said more clearly, her voice still laden with tears, "They said they're gonna take us back."

"Are your foster parents aware of this?" Brennan asked, shooting Booth a concerned look.

"I dunno," Maddie sniffed, "We were out in the yard playing and they said that they would come and get us tomorrow. They said you stole us from them and they want us back. I don't wanna go back, Dr. Bones! I don't wanna!"

"Where are you calling from?" Booth asked.

"The foster house," Maddie replied, "Joey got the cordless phone when nobody was looking and I called you right away just like you said to."

"Maddie, I want you to take the phone to your foster parents and let me speak to them," Booth instructed, "They need to know what's going on so they can help."

Maddie protested, but eventually they were able to persuade her to heed Booth's advice. They sat down on Brennan's couch, listening anxiously as they heard Maddie traveling with the phone. When the Lane children's foster father got on the phone, Booth turned off the speaker phone and began talking with the man privately. He explained the role that he and Brennan had played in the children's lives, as well as the exchange that had taken place between Booth and the children's grandparents. The man, Ken Beckett, was aware of the abuse charges that had were being filed but did not know that the elder Lanes had spoken with the children.

Whatever Beckett had offered to do, it did not seem to satisfy Booth. He informed the man that, since their mother's murder fell under federal jurisdiction, the care of the children did as well. Next, he told Beckett that they would be leaving immediately and that they would contact the proper Maryland authorities so that Booth and Brennan could transfer the children into the protective custody of the FBI. Neither man seemed to have any ideas as to why the grandparents suddenly wanted back into their grandchildren's lives but both agreed that the children could not remain at the foster home safely for much longer.

Once she had deduced that their travel plans had been moved up a night, Brennan busied herself in her kitchen, transferring as much of the perishable goods from her refrigerator to her freezer as she could. The fruits and vegetables that remained, she decided to pack in insulated bags and take with them so that they would not spoil. She moved all of her bags to the front door so that they would be ready when Booth was ready to leave.

"Alright," Booth said, raking his hand through his hair as he came toward her, "I got a hold of Michaels and Cullen and they agreed to work together to get the paperwork through by the time we get down there. They're also getting us two rooms at the same hotel we stayed at last week until we can sort this thing out."

"Didn't you inform them that we all slept in one room the last time?" she asked.

"Nope," he shook his head, "I was just happy they were all working together on this. I'm not going to sweat the details. Anyway, we need to get on the road now so that we can get them out of there before the kids or the grandparents decide to do something drastic. I think I convinced Maddie to stay put and that we would pick them up soon, but there's no use taking any chances."

"We have to stop by your townhouse," she pointed out, "It's more or less on the way out of town and you will need clean clothes for the trip."

"I've done without clean clothes enough recently, Bones, I think I can handle it," he picked up her suitcase and opened the door, ushering her out.

"You don't know how long we might need to remain there," she argued, taking the bag of produce and locking the door behind them, "And furthermore, we need to pick up the case files so that we can work on that as well."

"Just once, Bones," he turned to glare at her as they rode the elevator down to the parking lot, "You could let me do things my way, you know? Even if it doesn't make sense."

"I believe I already did that," she smirked, holding up her left hand so that the engagement ring was clearly visible.

His glare softened into a smile as they exited the elevator and headed toward the SUV and he transferred her baggage to his left hand so that he could capture her left hand with his right one. He drew her hand up to his lips and kissed the ring and her finger gently. No words were spoken, but the tension between them eased and by the time they were settled in their respective seats they were both focused and ready for whatever lay ahead of them.


	39. Chapter 39

As much as he wanted to flip on the siren and head to Bowie as fast as possible, Booth knew that Bones was right about stopping by his place. He was currently dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and wasn't sure if he would need a suit at some point during the trip. The case files were also at his house, along with the final paperwork that he needed to give to Michaels in order to file charges against the grandparents.

When he pulled into his driveway, Bones offered to get all of the paperwork while he packed. He accepted her help and reminded her to make sure the papers for Michaels were there too. She rolled her eyes and claimed he was treating her like a child but at least now he knew she wouldn't forget.

He hurried up to his room and began shoving clothes into a small suitcase. He pulled out two suits and left them on their hangers so that they wouldn't wrinkle. Moving from the bedroom to the bathroom he rounded up all of the toiletries that he normally packed, then threw Bones' things that she had sitting on his counter in as well.

Five minutes later everything was loaded into the trunk and they were on their way. Cullen called while they were en route and confirmed that all of the paperwork had been cleared and the reservations made. He told Booth he would send the tech team down as planned tomorrow morning to Candie Lane's rental house in Lusby. Booth and Dr. Brennan were to join them when they could. Cam called next to check in with Brennan and see if there was anything that she and the rest of the Squint Squad should be doing. Bones gave them a laundry list of things and only stopped because he glared at her long enough.

Michaels was the third and final call. He had discovered that Candie had taken out a large life insurance policy several years ago and had named Maddie, or whoever was the children's legal guardian if Maddie was still a minor, as the recipient. This explained the elder Lane couple's sudden interest in getting the children back. Booth let him know that the paperwork was filled out and that they were bringing it with them and Michaels promised that he would take the couple into custody immediately. Michaels also agreed to meet them at the Becketts' house and bring the custody paperwork that Cullen had faxed over.

The car was silent after he hung up with Michaels except for the soft tapping of fingers on a keyboard. Bones had her laptop out and was furiously typing out their notes from the other night while she still had enough daylight left. He was going to stop her but decided against it, figuring that she needed to focus on something as much as he did right now. He tuned the radio in to a light rock station, flicked his flashing lights on, and drove towards Bowie as quickly as he knew Bones would let him get away with.

An hour later, they were there and the sun was just beginning to set. Bones closed her laptop and sighed heavily.

"What's wrong, Bones?" reading something in her body language he couldn't quite place.

"This situation with the Lane children is very emotionally taxing," she told him.

"Yeah," he said gently, "It is."

"No, Booth," she shook her head, "You don't understand. Usually, I am able to compartmentalize these situations with ease. Certainly there have been a few cases- such as our dealings with Howard Epps and the time we cared for Andy- that I have become emotionally involved in, but by and large that is not how I handle things. It certainly is not the most efficient or professional way and I fear that I will not be as much use to you if I am not able to rid myself of this sensitivity I feel toward Maddie, Joey, and Sadie."

"Bones," he tucked a strand of her hair back from her face and behind her ear, "Cases like Epps, Andy, and these kids are ones that never fully leave you. It's okay that you feel emotionally tied to them because each one of them has made an impact on your life. Have you ever heard the saying, 'no man is an island'?"

"John Donne," she replied, nodding, "'Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions' if I am not mistaken and I believe it is from the seventeenth meditation."

"I'll take you word on that," he said with a grin, "Anyway, it means that we're not supposed to live our lives compartmentalizing ourselves from everyone and everything and that no matter how hard we try we will always impact, and be impacted by, others. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure that clinical detachment works wonders when you're poring over a rotting corpse or knee-deep in a mass grave, but part of fieldwork is dealing with live people. We interact with them, Bones, and do the very best that we can to help them get justice.

"We've already gotten some leads from the kids, but more than that we've gained their trust. They are alone in the world right now, Bones, very literally, and we need to let them know that the good guys don't just walk off and abandon you when things are at their worst. Sometimes I think of the bad rap us cops and FBI guys get and I remind myself that every person I come in contact with can help change that image- help people trust the government a little bit more."

"So your actions are dictated by the image you wish to portray?" she sounded even more confused.

"Sort of," he admitted, "But mostly my actions are dictated by the circumstances and right now we have the chance to show kindness and compassion to these kids. We _have_ to be their family right now, Bones, because they don't have anything. Do you think you can do that?"

"I can try," she replied honestly, "Though I am not certain that I possess any mothering skills."

"You'll do fine," he grinned as they got out.

"Because I am a female and must therefore inherently possess caretaking skills?"

"No," he shook his head as they moved up the walkway to the Becketts' front door, "Because you're a deeply passionate person when it comes to your science and you are learning how to experience all of the other things in life with your heart."


	40. Chapter 40

Brennan warmed at Booth's compliment and squelched the last of her nerves as Booth rapped on the door. Within seconds the door opened and Maddie and Joey came tumbling out. Maddie embraced Brennan while Joey went immediately to Booth. Sadie was not far behind and came toddling out the door followed closely by the Becketts. Sadie's outstretched arms indicated that she wanted Brennan to pick her up and Maddie moved aside to let "Dr. Bones" do just that.

Ken Beckett introduced the couple to his wife, Margret. Booth and Ken started loading the children's scant belongings into the SUV while Margret went to the family's van to help Brennan with Sadie and Joey's car seats.

"The kids really like you two," Margret commented, "They haven't stopped talking about you and Agent Booth since Nadine dropped them off."

"We bonded with them in a very brief amount of time," Brennan agreed, "They're very likable children."

Margret nodded, taking both car seats so that Brennan could continue carrying Sadie. The two women set off for the SUV and Brennan persuaded Sadie to sit in the front seat long enough for her and Margret to install the car seats. Brennan was thankful that Joey's was a simple booster seat as opposed to Sadie's more elaborate infant one.

The men finished loading the children's things just as the car seats were done being installed. Ken offered them a drink and some refreshments but before they could either accept or reject his offer, a police cruiser pulled up and Michaels stepped out. He greeted everyone congenially, then pulled Booth off to the side. Brennan would have joined them, however Sadie was back in her arms and Maddie was giving her a minute-by-minute account of what had happened since they had come to live with the Becketts. She barely heard a word the girl said she was talking so rapidly, but it seemed as if they had enjoyed their short stay here and that the Beckett house had been an especially positive atmosphere for all three children.

Michaels and Booth finished their conference and moved to join the rest of them. Booth announced that it was time for them to leave and the children each gave Ken and Margret a small hug before piling into the SUV. Brennan noticed with a small sense of satisfaction that the Lane children were much less emotional than they had been when they had initially parted ways with Booth and Brennan a few days earlier. She was especially pleased to see how much the children were looking forward to going back to the hotel.

Two minutes later they were on the road again and on the way to the hotel, with Michaels driving ahead of them. When they reached the hotel parking lot, Michaels gave them a brief wave and drove off, back toward the police station. Once the police cruiser was out of sight, the children became extremely boisterous and began requesting everything from a story to dinner. Booth and Brennan agreed that the latter was the wisest course, so Brennan began walking with the children to the buffet while Booth checked them into their rooms and took up the luggage.

This time, Joey and Maddie did not fight over the seating arrangements; they simply selected a round table and left a seat open between them for Booth. Brennan sat on Maddie's left, while Sadie sat happily between Brennan- whom Sadie named "Bone" - and her older brother. All four of them had filled their plates before Booth arrived, but they insisted on waiting for him to start eating. Joey was losing his resolve and had a carrot halfway to his mouth when Booth finally appeared in the doorway of the restaurant. The young boy set his carrot down immediately and bounded over to Booth, dragging the FBI agent by the arm and showing him where his assigned place was.

Booth quickly hid the weariness Brennan could tell he was fighting, and patiently answered all of the Joey and Maddie's questions. They wanted to know where he and Dr. Bones had gone, how long they could all stay together, and if Booth had gotten the bad guy yet. Booth shifted their growing interest in the case by instead telling them about Parker and showing them the picture of his son that he carried in his wallet. Maddie thought it was fun that Booth had a son that was seven like her, while Joey declared that Parker looked a lot like "Boof" and therefore must be nice. Sadie giggled and agreed with everything her brother and sister said.

Once their attention was firmly diverted from the case, Booth made eye contact with Brennan and communicated that he was tired and hungry, not to mention the hour was growing later and the servers would soon begin clearing the buffet for the night.

"Why don't we let Booth go get some food?" she interjected softly, "And you children need to finish your food as well."

As if suddenly realizing that they had been monopolizing Booth's time and keeping him from his own dinner, Maddie and Joey settled down and became extremely interested in their own food, freeing Booth to finally get some sustenance.

Thirty minutes later, the entire group exited the restaurant, escorted by the manager, who locked the door behind them.

"Perhaps we should find somewhere else to eat tomorrow," Brennan suggested.

"Probably not a bad idea," Booth winked, "Wouldn't want to wear out our welcome."

She thought privately that perhaps they already had, but nodded and said nothing as she picked up the toddling Sadie whose small steps were beginning to falter. By the time they arrived at their rooms, Booth had picked up Joey and the young boy was nearly asleep. Quietly, they entered the room, helped the children change into their pajamas- which Booth had thoughtfully set out when he had brought the luggage up to the rooms- and brushed their teeth. There was little fuss when they tucked Maddie and Joey into the same bed they had occupied the last time. Sadie curled up in the crib beside her brother and sister and was asleep almost as soon as Brennan put her down.

Maddie and Joey asked for one last hug each and Booth and Brennan obliged, assuring them that they would be over in the other room for a time, but would return to the children's room to sleep. This seemed to assuage their nerves and they each turned over and closed their eyes. Brennan doubted they would be awake for long. While they showed some signs of being afraid that their grandparents would abduct them when Booth and Brennan had first picked them up, now they were content in the knowledge that Booth would never allow any harm to come to them while they slept.

Booth turned the light off and they both slipped into the other room, keeping the door slightly ajar just as they had done the last time. Booth padded over to the small, bedside light and turned it on so that they could see one another and for several minutes they relaxed in companionable silence together on the bed nearest the door.

"The children seemed quite relieved that we are staying in the same room as the last time," Brennan commented after some time.

"Yeah," Booth nodded, "I think Michaels did that on purpose for us."

"He does his job well."

"Yup, he's definitely one of the good guys," Booth pulled her close to him and began planting soft kisses on the nape of her neck.

"Booth," she protested gently, trying not to groan in pleasure, "The children are in extremely close proximity to us."

"Which is why you're not naked," he whispered huskily into her ear.

"You are indubitably a man of considerable restraint," she told him drily as his ministrations migrated to other body parts.

"Which is why I'm not naked," he shot right back, arching an eyebrow, "By the way, Bones, you are totally hot when you talk squint speak to me in bed."

"Indeed?" she trailed a finger down the center of his chest, wishing idly that he would remove his shirt, then sternly reminding herself that they were not truly alone, "Fascinating. Though why you continue to apply derogatory nicknames to those who use educated speech patterns is beyond me."

He shrugged, propping himself up on one elbow, "What do you mean?"

"Squint speak, squint squad," she began to list his various terms for her and her team, "Eggheads when you are extremely frustrated, the brain trust when you are introducing us to outsiders. Even the name 'Bones' would be considered highly offensive and disparaging amongst those in my field."

"You aren't offended are you?" his eyes became concerned and he intertwined his free hand with hers.

"No," she shook her head, "Not anymore. At some point it ceased to be an irritant and instead became a name denoting the strong friendship that we share. It certainly would feel unnatural for you to call me anything else at this point."

"You mean you don't want me calling you Tempe?" he teased.

"Ugh," she made a face, "My father and Russ are the only two people who may call me that- and only because I know I will never break them of the habit anymore than I could get you to stop calling me Bones. Meanwhile, I notice that you have conveniently sidestepped my original question. Why do you apply seemingly derogatory nicknames to those in the academic community?"

She backed off as she noticed him seriously considering her question and waited for his answer.


	41. Chapter 41

He should have known better than to think he could skirt her question and he shifted uneasily under the scrutiny. He stroked the ring on her finger again, its cool smoothness calming his racing heartbeat.

He cleared his throat and did his best to meet her gaze.

"I don't do it to be mean," he managed, not sure quite how to answer her.

"I know that," she smiled kindly, "As I said, I'm not offended by your terminology, I simply don't understand the reasoning behind it. You obviously harbor no ill feelings toward me and you seem to get along with all of the rest of the people we work with, therefore there must be some other explanation."

"I guess," he shifted uncomfortably, "It started because you- and other super smart types like you- intimidate me. I'm not smart, Bones," he stroked her cheek, smiling wistfully, "Not like you or Hodgins or any of the other squints. Street smart, yeah, but book smart," he smirked, "It took me two semesters and way too many tutors to get me through college math so that I could graduate. In science I squeaked by with a 'D' and that was only 'cause I had a really smart lab partner.

"Besides that, smart people always seemed snotty to me. I mean, what's wrong with throwing in a contraction and a few idioms now and then? Or using bad grammar? It's not like there are English police out there who will toss you in jail if you don't conjugate a verb correctly."

"So by diminishing others' accomplishments you make yourself feel better and more competent in their presence?" the question was asked so earnestly and without any other emotion it made his cheeks burn bright red.

"Sort of," he focused on a small stain on the bed between them, "Sounds awful when you put it that way, though. Like the kind of stuff I'm trying to teach Parker not to do."

"Seeley," her voice beckoned him to lift his eyes to hers and he slowly obeyed, "You are neither a mean person, nor a dumb jock. You graduated from high school, correct?"

He nodded his head.

"And you completed a four-year college degree?"

"Criminal justice," he supplied.

"Any Master's level work?"

"One class that they offered me for free once I graduated," he admitted, "It wasn't too bad but I was burned out on school by then and it wasn't anywhere near in my price range."

"It took me several years to pay off my college loans as well," she smiled, "Multiple doctorates do not come without significant expense- some of my textbooks alone were close to a thousand dollars."

"A grand for a book?" he asked incredulously, "No wonder you've kept them all!"

"Some of them are very helpful resources that I still consult from time to time," she nodded, "Though I must admit there are others that I rarely read."

He gasped in mock surprise, "There are books that Temperance Brennan does _not_ read? I'm shocked and appalled!"

"You are not," she gave him a playful shove and they laughed together, "I actually threw out my psychology textbook once the class was over. It was an introductory, compulsory course and is the one time I remember despising any academic setting."

Booth laughed and rolled over on his back to give his shoulder a rest, "Don't let Sweets hear you say that. He probably considers that close to heresy!"

She rolled over onto her stomach so that they were facing each other again and propped herself up on her elbows, "I wonder what he will think of this?" she fingered her ring.

"Are we going to tell him?"

"It would be difficult not to," she pointed out, "Though it would be amusing to have him discover the truth himself."

"I like the way your mind works," he grinned, lifting his head up so that their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart, "My fiancé."

He wasn't sure who closed the gap, but it didn't really matter because within seconds she was on top of him and his arms were around her. They kissed long and deep, passion coursing between them like a river running steadily along its familiar course. He sensed that she still didn't want to get too involved with the kids so close by, so he contented himself with her kiss and the warmth of her light frame on top of his.

"Did I come off as snobbish to you when we first met?" she asked when they separated, "Is that why you insisted on calling me 'Bones' even after I asked you not to?"

"Honestly," he met her eyes, "Yeah, you came off a little full of yourself the first couple of times, but then I figured out that that was just you and I got used to it and didn't take offence- however, that's not why I kept calling you 'Bones.'"

"Then why?" her eyebrows lifted.

"I loved getting the rise out of you. When you get all riled your eyes get this look and your face does this thing," he tried to imitate her and knew he fell short, "It's cute- and hot too."

She rolled her eyes and made the exact face he was trying to describe, "I doubt I will ever fully understand you."

"Eh," he shrugged, offering his best charm smile, "You've got a lifetime to crack the mystery of Seeley Booth, I'm sure you'll figure me out by then."

"Perhaps," she answered, glancing at her ring and then back at him, "Though the more I get to know you the more I believe you are like an onion."

"I smell funny and make you want to cry?" he wrinkled his nose.

"No," she shook her head, quite serious in her tone, "You are multi-layered."

"I'm gonna need you to elucidate," he used one of her fancy words on her.

"When I first met you, I discovered that you are a dedicated law enforcement officer," she began, "Then I discovered that you are also a father, and an extremely loyal friend. Through the years, I have discovered that you are an athlete, an exceptional sharpshooter, a gentleman, a family-driven man, and a man of incredible courage and resourcefulness.

"More recently, I have discovered that you have experienced things in your childhood that I'm sure must have been traumatic at the time, yet instead of using that as an excuse to fall into the same behavioral patterns as were modeled for you, you chose to push yourself to become the best man- and the best father- that you could. You have been most successful in that endeavor too, I might add and I am sure that there are many other layers that make up who you are- thus to me, you are like an onion."

"I get it," he smiled tenderly, "And thanks; really."

"You're welcome."

"Remind me to rent Shrek for us sometime when we get home- might help you expand on that onion theory of yours."

"Is it a philosophical film?"

"Not exactly," he grinned, sitting up and stretching, "We should head to bed before we fall asleep here."

"A wise suggestion."

He stood and began peeling his clothes off and digging into his suitcase.

"I'm glad you had the foresight to leave our bags in this room," Bones said, coming to stand beside him and reaching for her own bag.

"Yup," he nodded, "You need any help changing?"

"Not the type that you would offer," she told him, batting his hands away, "Now leave me be or I will change in the bathroom."

He pecked her on the cheek and moved back to give her space. He swore she took ten times longer than she needed to removing certain articles of clothing and replacing them with her pajamas and he had to sit down on the bed to keep himself from touching her.

"I forgot my toothbrush," she said when she was finished, "I wonder if they have any complimentary ones here."

"Don't know," Booth grinned, "But you can use what I brought."

"Booth," she gave him a disgusted look, "I am not sharing a toothbrush with you. Do you have any idea how unhygienic that is?"

"While I _could_ point out that we have been swapping other bodily fluids without any complaint from you," Booth stood up and waggled his eyebrows, "I was actually talking about this," he held up the bag with all of her things that had been in his bathroom, "Thought these might come in handy."

She grabbed for the bag and glared daggers in his direction, "Next time you could simply tell me that you had taken the liberty of packing the toiletries that I'd left at your house."

"Nah," he shook his head, dangling the bag up high where she couldn't reach it, "Wouldn't be nearly as fun that way."

"Seeley Ryan Booth," she said fiercely, "You give me that bag this instant!"

"You're still hot when you're angry," he laughed, dangling the bag for a few seconds longer before lowering it enough for her to snatch it from him.

Bag in hand, she spun on her heel and flounced into the bathroom. He waited a full minute before following her to make sure she wasn't really angry with him.

"Truce?" he asked, grabbing a piece of toilet paper and waving it like a white flag.

Her mouth was full of toothpaste and she spit into the sink before turning to acknowledge him.

"Fine," she agreed, "We really should go into the other room with the children."

He took her by the shoulders before she could slip out, "You know I was just messing with you, right?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I wasn't truly angry, just frustrated. It's been a long day and I am very tired. I apologized for snapping at you."

"And I'm sorry for egging you on when we're both tired," he turned off the bathroom light, leaving one arm draped around her shoulder as they walked out.

He only left her side for a second to turn off the bedside light, then returned and took her hand as they entered the other room. He walked her around to her side of the bed, making sure she didn't stumble and gave her a small peck on the cheek. Softly, he crept to where the kids were sleeping, relieved to see three chests bobbing up and down peacefully in the faint moonlight. Before laying down himself, he double-checked that the deadbolt was securely in place on the door. Satisfied that he and his charges were safe, he crawled into bed next to Bones and was asleep in no time.


	42. Chapter 42

When Brennan awoke the next morning, Maddie, Joey, and Sadie were beginning to stir. Beside her, Booth slept soundly, his body completely relaxed and at peace. She slid out from under the covers as quietly as she could, picked up Sadie from the crib, and beckoned the other children to follow her into the other room.

They played together for about a half an hour until Joey and Maddie began tickling each other and squealing with laughter. Booth came stumbling in to see what the noise was and the two offenders looked first at each other, then at Booth and ran straight for him. He allowed them to pull him to the ground and tickle him, making one or two half-hearted attempts to free himself and tickle them back.

Eventually, they stopped and Booth announced that it was breakfast time. The two older children each claimed a bathroom to change in while Brennan dressed Sadie in the room that they had slept in. Booth waited until Joey was done changing and claimed that bathroom for a shower and a shave. Brennan personally thought that his stubble added character to his already attractive face, though she did not think she would particularly like it if he grew a full beard.

When everyone was dressed and ready to go, Booth jotted down the address of a restaurant he thought would suit all of their tastes and together they herded the children out of the hotel and into the SUV. Booth handed Brennan the address and allowed her to type it into the GPS and they set off. Conversation in the car was light and cheerful, and both Booth and Brennan were relieved that Maddie did not bring up the case again.

None of the children showed any hint of the fear they had felt the night before and Brennan felt that was due in no small part to the man sitting beside her. She had heard in the past of women who claimed they were proud of the men they were involved with, or that they were proud simply to be in a relationship with a particular man. She had never understood the rationale behind that line of thinking and felt it both obsessive and possessive of the women to make such claims. Knowing that she would soon be attaching herself permanently to a man of Booth's caliber, however, was causing her to rethink that stance.

Breakfast was much less subdued than any of the meals that they had shared at the hotel. She was not certain if this was due to the circular booth- at which she sat on one end and Booth at the other- or the fact that they were ordering from menus rather than a buffet. Whatever the case, she was thankful for it and made sure that the children knew she was pleased with their good behavior.

Halfway through the meal, Booth's phone rang, and he excused himself from the table. She watched, curious, as he exited the restaurant and knew from his subsequent pacing and body language that he was not entirely pleased with whatever was being told to him. With extreme effort she pulled her eyes away from him and focused her attention back on the meal. She had a feeling that they would be required to leave shortly and so encouraged Maddie and Joey to finish their food at a more rapid pace. Sadie, meanwhile, had finished her meal and Brennan began the monumental task of cleaning up the mess the one year old had made.

The look on Booth's face as he reentered the restaurant confirmed her suspicions that not all was proceeding as he wished it to and she offered a sympathetic look, which he returned with a grateful smile. He sat down silently and quickly shoveled the rest of his meal into his mouth just as Maddie and Joey finished theirs. They made quick work of paying for the meal and getting the children into the car.

"Where we goin', Boof?" Joey wanted to know when they were back on the road.

"We," Booth said with a forced excitement, "Are going to go visit Lieutenant Michaels at the police station."

"How come?" Maddie asked warily.

"He has some info for Dr. Bones and I," Booth explained easily.

"What about us?" was the girl's next question.

"You," Booth smiled, "Are going to get to meet one of Bones' and my friends. His name's Dr. Sweets and he's gonna play with you while Dr. Bones and I are in our meeting."

"Wow," Joey piped up, "Are all of your friends doctors, Boof?"

Booth let out a genuine laugh, "Seems like it sometimes, Bub."

"Is he a doctor like you, Dr. Bones?" Maddie wanted to know.

"Actually," she began, then caught Booth's warning look out of the corner of her eye, "He works in a different field than I do," she amended quickly, "But we work with him on cases at times."

Apparently satisfied with the answers they had been given, Maddie and Joey passed the rest of the trip in relative silence. Brennan, meanwhile, was perplexed as to what the meeting could possibly be about and why the FBI felt that Sweets needed to meet with the children. It could have something to do with the charges that were being filed against the Lane grandparents, though it seemed that this in itself would not have caused the agitation that she sensed in Booth's gait and posture at the restaurant. She threw a questioning look at Booth once, but he silenced any questions by shaking his head and nodding it toward the back seat. Whatever the issue was it involved the children and he obviously did not want to discuss it in front of them.

When they reached police headquarters, they were met by a kind secretary who introduced herself as Rachael King. Ms. King escorted them back to a series of conference rooms in the back of the building. One had clearly been set up for the children as it had been cleared of the large desks that occupied each of the other rooms, and instead contained child-sized tables and a plethora of books and toys for their amusement. As Booth had said, Sweets was waiting for them there and welcomed the children with a large smile. An assuring hug from Booth and Brennan and the promise that they would return when their meeting was over was all the encouragement Maddie and Joey needed to enter the room. Sadie was a bit more hesitant, clinging to Brennan's neck, but once she observed that her brother and sister were having fun she decided to join them. The partners offered one last wave before following Ms. King to the next conference room.

If Brennan had been mildly surprised to see Sweets had been sent down to aid in the investigation, she was shocked to see both Sam Cullen and Cam waiting for them in the next room along with Lieutenant Michaels and Officer Watson, whom they had met at the original crime scene in Lusby. She glanced quickly at Booth and while he did not seem surprised that both of their bosses were here, neither did he seem pleased at the prospect. A thousand different scenarios filtered through her mind as they joined the group and took their places at the table. Once they were seated, Booth surreptitiously squeezed her hand and moved his knee so that it rested against her own. The tactile contact, however small, seemed to calm him and allow him to mask the emotions that had been quite evident on his face.

A glance went around the table as each of them waited for someone to make an opening statement.


	43. Chapter 43

Booth did everything in his power to keep the annoyance off of his face as he waited for the meeting to start, thankful that Bones was letting him rest his knee up against hers under the table. It was the only thing that kept him from worrying about how the case was unfolding.

He listened without comment as Cullen began talking; much of it was the same as what the Director had told Booth on the phone at the restaurant. The case was taking turns that none of them had originally anticipated and thus the group pow-wow was needed to get everyone on the same page, not to mention they needed to decide what the next step was going to be.

Cullen laid out the facts that had been collected by each of the investigation teams present. First, he explained that when Officer Watson and the FBI tech team had gone to collect evidence from Candie Lane's rental house, they had found that the owner of the house had long since cleared Candie's things from the house and rented it out to someone else when Candie didn't pay rent for three months straight. The man claimed this was part of his contract with lessees, though he had least had thrown her stuff in the back of one of his many storage units just on the off chance that she ever came to collect it.

When Watson and the tech team had retrieved everything from the storage unit, they had found a brick of coke hidden inside a suitcase that was full of clothes. In with the coke was a journal of sorts that seemed to indicate Candie had stumbled on a local drug ring and that she was beginning to fear for her life. They also found fingerprints on pictures of the three Lane kids that didn't belong to either the rental home owner or Candie, but that matched a set of prints found on the coke. Their conclusion was that whoever had killed Candie, might also try and track down her children.

Cullen produced the journal, handing it over to Booth for further study, and went silent.

Cam spoke next, informing the group that Hodgins had found a fingernail in with everything that had been sent to the Jeffersonian. According to him, it had deteriorated enough to fit with the timeline that they had constructed for Candie's death, and since it did not match the victim's DNA, it might match the killer's. Other than that, the evidence found at the crime scene had not yielded anything else that would help them.

Allowing everyone to absorb the information so far, Cullen waited several minutes before speaking again.

This time the information he delivered came from Michaels. As soon as the Lieutenant had gotten off of the phone with Booth last night, he had gone to the Lane house to take the older couple into custody. What he found was a house that had been recently abandoned- the owners nowhere in sight. Upon searching the house, they had found the letter that Candie Lane's insurance policy had sent to her parents, explaining the stipulations that she had set up for how the five-hundred thousand dollar policy was to be meted out if Maddie was still a minor.

They had also found one of the hunting rifles from the Lane's gun cabinet missing. That, along with the absence of bullets in the cabinet and the grandfather's threat to his granddaughter at the Beckett home, had persuaded the FBI to list the Lanes, not only as wanted government fugitives, but also as armed and dangerous. An APB had been put out for a car matching the description of the one Booth and Bones had seen on their initial visit, but according to the Maryland DMV, the Lanes had no cars that were legally registered to them. Cullen concluded by saying that they believed that it was in the children's best interests not only to offer them protective custody, but entrance into the Witness Protection program as well.

"So what does that mean will be done for them?" Bones asked, speaking for the first time since the meeting had started.

"That is one of the main things we are here to discuss, Dr. Brennan," Cullen told her, "I believe Dr. Sweets will be able to offer us some insight as to the direction we need to take."

As if on cue, Sweets appeared at the conference room door and entered. His tie was slung over his shoulder and it looked to Booth like the kid was gasping for air. Booth chuckled as quietly as he could and Bones shoved his knee with hers, trying to get him to stop. He did, though he wondered what the kids had done to the poor doc to make him look so disheveled.

"Those kids have wicked amounts of energy," was the first thing Sweets said once he caught on that the whole group was staring at him.

"Dr. Sweets," Cullen cleared his throat and emphasized the word doctor, prompting Sweets to take a seat, "We were just discussing the Lane situation and were wondering if you could give us your professional evaluation of them as well as help us choose a course of action?"

"Of course," the kid fixed his tie and smoothed his suit, "From what I can tell, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan were dead on in their observation that the two older children have been physically abused. They display all of the classic symptoms and seemed very unwilling to broach the subject with me on any level. I don't think they're denying what happened, they're just extremely cautious in who they place their trust.

"That being said, they were more than willing to give me a minute-by-minute account of all of their dealings with Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. All three of them seem to have formed a close bond with the pair, which is totally to be expected since they see these two as their rescuers."

"Do you believe they would try and contact Agent Booth again if they were placed into Witness Protection?" Cullen asked.

"Most definitely," Sweets nodded, "Maddie especially would at the first hint of danger and it wouldn't surprise me at all if Joey would call simply to say hello. In his mind Agent Booth is his hero as well as perhaps the first father figure that he has had to look up to. All three children- in their own ways- expressed to me their desired to be adopted by Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. In fact their behavioral patterns already suggest that they see Booth and Brennan as their surrogate parents. They do miss their mother, but they were so loosely connected with her to begin with that they are seeking to forge other bonds as a replacement."

"So would you agree that the plan we discussed is the most advisable?" Cullen again addressed Sweets, and here Booth was lost as to what the two men were saying.

Sweets' head bobbed up and down, "Oh yes! To do anything less, I believe, would place them in considerable danger."

Cullen nodded curtly and Booth had the sinking feeling things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan," Cullen turned to address them, "After consulting with Dr. Saroryan, the Witness Protection Program, and Dr. Sweets, we believe the best thing to do until both the Lanes and the person responsible for Candie Lane's death are brought to justice would be to place all five of you into the Program."

It was Booth's turn to jostle Bones so that she wouldn't say anything as he asked, "What exactly does that mean, Sir?"

Cullen took a deep breath and looked at Cam, then back and Booth and Bones before answering, "We've coordinated our efforts with Witness Protection and they've offered you a safe house located only forty-five minutes from the initial crime scene. That will enable you to stay involved with the investigation, but provide adequate cover should you need it. Fake identities are being created for each of you along with all of the necessary documents, IDs, etcetera.

"We have also contacted your son's mother, Agent Booth, and she has agreed to allow Parker to go into the Program as well."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Booth stopped him, "Why are we dragging my son into this?"

"Think about it, Booth," Cam looked right at him, "Both the killer and the Lanes are looking for three kids. You throw a fourth into the mix and it might throw them off for a while longer."

"Not to mention," Sweets piped up, "That if Maddie said anything about Parker in her conversation with her grandparents before she felt threatened by them, they might decide to use him as leverage again you. Both Maddie and Joey were more than eager to tell me about you and your son, so…"

Booth raked his hands through his hair, thoroughly frustrated and not at all pleased with the decision to include his son in all of this. At the same time, he knew Rebecca would have to be fairly scared for Parker's safety herself to agree to all of this and he would look like a heel if he refused. He felt his fiancé's slight hand squeeze his thigh and met her eyes. She communicated silently that while she didn't like Parker being involved either, she would go along with whatever choice he made.

"So we would pose as a family?" he asked, releasing a sigh.

"Yes, a Catholic family as a matter of fact," Cullen nodded, "You, Booth, will be an independent contractor for the Naval base located close to the crime scene, while Dr. Brennan will be a stay-at-home mother, who writes stories for children's magazines on the side. Maddie and Parker will be documented as twins to further conceal their identities. The house is in a more affluent neighborhood where you will most likely be left to yourselves. An FBI security detail will monitor the house at all times and report to you, Agent Booth, daily. Several of the other neighbors also employ private security details, so this won't be seen as out of the ordinary. The yard is fenced in with an underground security barrier that surrounds it and will go off if anyone crosses it."

Booth was impressed with how well-thought-out everything seemed to be, but smirked, wondering what Bones thought of being cast as the domestic housewife.

"That sounds logical," Cullen, Cam, Sweets, and Booth stared in shock as Bones nodded her head, her voice not betraying any hint that she was opposed to the plan, "How soon will everything be implemented?"

"The documents should come through this afternoon," Cullen was the first to recover, "You'll remain here until they arrive and go immediately to the safe house. Movers have been furnishing the house as we speak and your personal affects should arrive within the next day or two. Appropriate cars, as well as a joint bank account furnished by the FBI will be at your disposal. I have a set of wedding rings for each of you, and Dr. Brennan, there is a high-speed internet connection set up for you so that you can keep in contact with the Jeffersonian."

Booth continued to watch his partner, astounded as she nodded, taking everything in without a single word of complaint.

"As I said, this sounds very logical, and it is evident that the pertinent details have been well thought out," she said when Cullen was finished, "But I would like to discuss the matter privately with Booth before we proceed any further."

_That_, he thought, _is the Bones I know_, and apparently Cam and Cullen felt the same because they both instantly nodded their heads.

Satisfied with their answer, she returned the nod and gestured for Booth to leave the room with her. He stood up and followed her out of the room and then out of the building. It was warm outside, but pleasantly so and a welcome relief from the air-conditioned building. He put his hand at the small of her back, guiding her to a picnic table well out of sight of the conference room windows.

For a moment they simply sat at the table in silence. She placed her left hand on the table in front of him and he took it in his and reached for her other hand. They shared a weary smile.

"So what did you want to discuss, Bones," he asked gently when she turned to study him, "You okay with this whole thing?"

"Booth," a cloud passed over her face and she looked very serious, "I have a question for you that pertains to a certain element of this assignment and I would like an honest answer, whatever it might be."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Bones," he told her, "Even if I knew that you wouldn't like the answer."

She nodded, "I presumed as much, but I needed your word in this instance."

"You have it," he assured her solemnly.

Setting her shoulders as she always did before she was about to address a serious subject, she spoke evenly, "When had you planned on marrying me?"

The question took him aback and he didn't see the connection to the case really, but he answered her as soon as he knew the answer, "I hadn't really thought about it to be honest, Bones. I mean, I never thought you'd-" he wondered if he should finish the thought or if that would hurt her feelings.

"You thought that I would never accept your proposal," she said matter-of-factly, then smiled widely at him, "It was a valid conclusion, Booth. I certainly never thought that I would accept either; never mind that I was the one to initiate the conversation in the first place. I believe I caught us both by surprise, though I am more than content in my decision."

"Good to know," he joked.

"What I was trying to ascertain was whether or not you had a set time frame in mind for how you wished to proceed with the wedding, or if you were flexible in that area."

"Oh I'm flexible alright," he leered, "For you especially."

She punched him in the arm for his trouble, "You will note that I added the prepositional phrase 'in that area' in order to avoid answers like that- though my efforts apparently were in vain."

He shrugged and offered his best charm smile at which she shook her head in mock disgust and continued talking, "I am wondering if you would be open to the possibility of marrying as soon as possible? If we are planning on being a married couple, and we are being asked to assume the identity of a married couple, it would follow that we marry as soon as possible and thus make our cover story all the more credible," she must have interpreted his expression as confused because she went on, her voice lowering a tad, "It would be very awkward for me to call you my husband in a social setting and not be married to you when in reality we are engaged."

He nodded, thinking that he understood, "Too close to the real thing for comfort?"

"Exactly," she let out a sigh, apparently relieved that he got what she was saying, "If we were merely partners that would be a different matter as the entire role would be a farce."

"Temperance Brennan," he knew his grin stretched from ear to ear, "I have nothing better to do today than marry you."

She smiled softly back, "Neither do I, Seeley, though I assume that a marriage license will take some time to process unless Cullen will expedite it for us."

"And that was all you wanted to ask me about?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

"You don't have a problem with your role in this? That you are essentially a housewife?"

"I'll have access to the Jeffersonian, and obviously the case, since you haven't been forbidden to keep me out. It might make us stand out more if I were to go to work while you stayed home, and while progress has been made in middle-class settings, among the affluent traditional roles still stand. Whatever I can do to help protect Maddie, Joey, Sadie, and of course Parker, I will. I may not be particularly comfortable with it, but I will endure those things without complaint in order to keep them safe and bring Candie Lane's killer to justice."

"I love you," Booth said, brushing her cheek with his thumb, "Thank you, Temperance."

"Anytime, Seeley," she fingered her ring, "Are we going to purchase our own wedding bands or wear the ones that Cullen said he would provide?"

"I say we take Cullen's," he said thoughtfully, "That way we remember that we aren't Booth and Bones for a while. Besides, then we can go shopping for ours together without being rushed."

"I shall look forward to it," she smiled.

They sat in companionable silence on the bench until they noticed Cullen coming toward them.

Bones was the first one on her feet and she shot a look at Booth that let him know she wanted to do the talking.

"Have you reached a decision?" Cullen asked.

"Yes," Brennan told him confidently, "However we were wondering if you could expedite a marriage license for us?"

"Dr. Brennan," Cullen said slowly, eyeing Booth, who kept his poker face firmly in place, "The Bureau does not expect you and Agent Booth to actually marry- those documents can be forged easily enough- we merely want you to impersonate a married couple."

"And we wish to be married," Brennan thrust her left hand from behind her back, "Yesterday I accepted Booth's proposal of marriage and we agree that it would be confusing for us to be engaged in reality and married undercover. This should also help make our cover that much more credible."

"Agent Booth?" Cullen eyed him again.

"She's the boss," Booth said with a wide grin, "We never did get around to setting a date- though if you really want us too we could wait another year or so."

If looks could kill, Bones would've shot him dead on the scene right then and there, but Cullen caught Booth's reference to the five year bet the director had made and matched Booth's grin.

"I'll get on the phone right now and see what I can manage," Cullen told them, "Though if you still need these they're available to you."

Booth took the wedding bands that Cullen offered and slipped them in his pocket, "Thank you, Sir."

"Yes well," Cullen said, all business, "Congratulations to you both, however we do have a long afternoon in front of us and right now there are four children who are anxious to see you."

"Parker's here?" Booth asked.

"He just arrived and is playing with the other children. Part of our work this afternoon will be teaching them to respond to the new names they must assume and impress on them the importance on not revealing their real names to anyone. For now, though, it's time to get some food."

"One more question, Sir," Booth said as the three of them walked up to the building, "Where will Parker and Maddie go to school? I know the year just started, but I'm still curious."

"They've been enrolled in a private school that already has heightened security," Cullen explained as he held the door open for them, "No one but the principal is aware of the situation."

Any other questions they may have had were cut short by four sets of stomping feet. Parker, Maddie, and Joey ran full force toward them, while Sadie toddled along as quickly as she could. Hugs were exchanged all around and Sadie climbed into the good doctor's arms, resting her little head in the crook of Bones' neck.

Fifteen minutes later a pizza delivery boy showed up with a stack of food that reached almost all the way up to his chin. Bones pulled out two blankets from somewhere in the back of the SUV and he helped her lay them out on the grass so that they could all enjoy a picnic lunch. He smiled as he watched his son chattering away with the two older Lane kids, happy that they all seemed to be getting along.

"They're bonding very well," Bones sat down beside him and urged Sadie to go join the others.

"Yeah, they are," he bumped his shoulder into hers gently, "Our new little family."

"Four children can hardly make us qualify for a small family," she pointed out, ever the realist, "Do you realize we will have six people under one roof?"

"It's a pretty big house according to Cullen," Booth shrugged, "So we won't be stacked on top of each other."

"That's not my concern," she told him, "My concern is the workload that will be generated with so many people living in the same house: six people to feed, six people to clean up after, six people to clothe, and more importantly, four smaller people whom we have been tasked to protect and nurture both emotionally and physically. It's a daunting task, Booth."

"It's a family, Bones," he said, not caring anymore who saw him drawing her close, "A different kind of family, yes, and a large one at that. But we can handle it. And I promise that you will not be left alone to cook and clean up and care for everybody, okay?"

She nodded, "That is very alliterative, but I will hold you to your word."

"I wouldn't expect anything less of you."

He moved behind her so that she could lean up again him, then wrapped his arms around her, their fingers entwining almost instinctively. In a few minutes Cullen would call them all back and pull them into whatever whirlwind they were getting themselves into, but for now he was content to hold the woman he loved and assure her that no matter was coming, he would be there for her one hundred percent.


	44. Chapter 44

The afternoon had gone by relatively quickly in Brennan's opinion. A large portion of it had been spent going over and over the back story that the Witness Protection Program and the FBI had devised for them.

As of tomorrow, they would all be members of the Keller family. She and Booth were Kelly and David- which Booth teased her about as that was the name she had thought suited him best. Parker and Maddie were Christopher and Grace, while Joey and Sadie were Andrew and Katie. The two older children had no problems with the names changes and seemed to understand how important it was for them not to reveal their real names to anyone outside of the family. Joey immediately insisted on being called Andy, claiming that Andrew was too big of a name for him. Sadie couldn't speak much, but she did respond when they called her Katie after an hour of them telling her that Katie was her new name.

Brennan pulled Sweets aside and interrogated him on the long-term effects of changing a one year old's name. As much as she wanted to keep Sadie safe, she didn't want her to suffer an identity crisis further down the road. Sweets assured her that Sadie would not recall being called Katie as long as the switch was only temporary. He explained that young children have short memory spans and that the young girl would adapt just fine. The situation still made her uncomfortable as it was somewhat similar to her own name-change experience. However, she determined that since she did not suffer any lasting effects, she would see to it that Sadie did not either.

The rules surrounding the name changes were simple: if it was only the six of them inside of the house, they could refer to each other by their true names, in any other setting- even if the children were playing outside- they must used their pseudonyms. Extensive backgrounds had been built for both Brennan and Booth that included everything from where they each grew up to how they had eventually met and married, and they spent a good deal of time quizzing each other on the details. They were also informed that a coach from the WPP would come over to the house regularly for the first week to help with the transition.

At five o'clock, Cullen halted all studies for the night and had dinner delivered once again, then he left them all, promising to be back shortly. An hour later he was back with two large garment bags in tow.

"You might want to change into these," Cullen said, handing one bag each to Booth and Brennan, "We had ordered them thinking we would need you to pose for wedding photos, but they're just as good for a real wedding too."

"So you were able to expedite the license?" Brennan asked.

"Yes," Cullen nodded, producing an official-looking document, "The local Justice of the Peace gets off in a half hour and has promised to meet us at the courthouse chapel at seven tonight. Just sign on the lines and you're set to go."

She and Booth exchanged a look, both surprised at how quickly Cullen had been able to meet their request. They signed on the lines that Cullen indicated without hesitation. Hefting the bags, they followed Ms. King as she led them to the rooms they could use to change clothes. The secretary headed back up to where the main gathering was, leaving the soon-to-be-married couple alone in the hallway.

"You still up for this, Bones?" Booth asked teasingly, though she could tell he was looking for an honest answer.

"Yes," she nodded firmly, "Yesterday morning I promised to marry you and tonight I will. I would not have brought up the subject of marriage if I did not wish to carry through with it."

"True," he nodded his own head, "But this isn't exactly the one year long engagement period your research indicated would take place either. I just want to make sure that things aren't moving too quickly for you."

She was grateful for his concern, though to her it seemed unnecessary, "Taking into account Angela's theory that we have been courting one another for four years, I would say that we fall well within those parameters, not to mention we are both in our thirties, at which point the time margins shorten considerably."

"I love you," he replied and she could tell he was holding back his laughter.

"And I you," she smiled, "Now let's get dressed. We wouldn't want to be late for our own wedding."

They went to their separate rooms and began changing. Unzipping the bag, she found one of the most exquisite wedding gowns she had ever seen. The bottom half was pure white silk with a patterned lace train that Brennan estimated stretched a long way, but was neatly contained by hidden fastenings in the back. The top was silk as well, but tiny pearls had been woven in an intricate pattern that completely covered the bodice. The neckline was low and the back open, but tastefully so, and she was more than surprised to find that it fit her perfectly.

Observing herself in the floor length mirror that had been put in the room for her used, she decided that this was exactly the type of wedding gown that an upper-middle class woman would have selected a decade ago when she and "David" were supposedly married. Unable to reach the clasps at the back of the dress, she began arranging her hair, settling for a simple French Twist, but weaving the string of small pearls that had been left for her into her hair for greater effect. She applied a small amount of makeup and smiled at the woman looking back at her in the mirror, satisfied.

"Hey, slow poke, you done primping and preening in there yet?" she heard Booth's voice on the other side of the door.

"I need some assistance, actually," she ignored his question.

"Sure, Bones," he said, "I'm comin' in."

She heard the door open behind her and too one last look in the mirror to make sure that everything was in place, then turned to face him.

"Did I put it everything on correctly?" she asked, meeting his eyes- ever since the bow debacle at Angela's non-wedding, she was always doubtful of her judgment when it came to formal attire.

"You look-," she watched him search for a word, "Way beyond beautiful, Temperance. Really."

"Thank you, Seeley," she smiled softly at him, "You look very handsome yourself."

She wasn't exaggerating. Just as the dress she had been given reflected the monetary status they would have as the Kellers, so Booth's tuxedo did as well. It was a classic tux- black and white- and the shirt, jacket, and pants looked as if they had been tailored specifically for his chiseled form. The only thing wrong that she noticed was the bow tie, which he had draped around his neck, untied.

He cleared his throat and shook his head, "What did you say you needed help with?"

"The clasps at the base of my spine," she tried to point to the area, though it was covered in silk and lace, "I can't reach them."

"No problem," he began digging through the fabric, "Think you could help me with my tie when you're done?"

"You wear ties all of the time, Booth."

"Not bow ties," he grimaced, "Things are impossible to get tied just right."

"I would be happy to assist you," she said, "And thank you for helping me."

"You know, Bones," he commented, fastening the dress as he spoke, "You're actually doing me a favor here."

"How so?"

"Well," he placed a soft kiss on her spine for each clasp he finished, sending shivers of pleasure through her, "Now that I've helped you get into this thing, I'll know exactly how to get you out of it tonight."

He continued planting kisses up the length of her spine, long after he had finished with the dress, until he reached the base of her neck and spun her around. Wordlessly, their mouths met, tasting and probing, giving and taking. It was a very promise-laden kiss; one that communicated the dedication that each was bringing to the impending marriage.

She moved her hands up the smooth, natural fibers of his dress shirt until she reached the hanging bow tie. They parted so that she could tie it for him and reconnected once she had finished.

"People," Cam's voice interrupted them and they jumped apart, startled, "Don't make me get the ice water."

"Yes, Mother," Booth teased, "Guess you drew the short straw."

"Yup," the pathologist grinned, "But I bet them that you were down here making out so they owe me five bucks a piece."

"Glad we could help," Booth said drily, "You ready, Bones?"

"I am," she said, "We should go before they all turn into degenerate gamblers."

Booth grinned and proffered his elbow toward her and she accepted it with a small nod. Cam stepped to the side, allowing them to pass, and helped Brennan hold up the bottom part of the dress so that the anthropologist did not have to worry about tripping over it.

Upon their arrival into the common room, Parker, Maddie, and Joey cheered, while Sadie toddled over as quickly as she could to Brennan.

"Up?" Sadie asked, and Brennan complied, unwilling to deny her.

Cullen muttered something under his breath, then herded the small crowd outside. If the three older children had been excited by Booth and Brennan's attire, they were even more excited to see the full-sized limousine that awaited them all. They piled in it, dragging Booth and Brennan with them. Sadie, meanwhile, was content to finger the pearls on Brennan's dress and protested heavily when they put her into her car seat.

Five minutes later, then arrived at the courthouse. The limo driver took them around to the back of the building, where a quaint chapel had been built for such occasions.

The children clamored out first, followed by Booth, who turned to help Brennan maneuver herself, and the large dress, out of the car.

"Sweetie!!!" Brennan was attacked by Angela as soon Booth had extricated her from the car, "I'm so happy for you!!!!!!!!"

Brennan returned the embrace, pleased that her friend would be there for such a momentous occasion, "How did you find out about tonight's proceedings?"

"Oh," Angela waved a hand as the two moved arm-in-arm toward the chapel, "Cam called us as soon as Cullen told her. You didn't think you would slip this past us did you?"

Brennan smiled, "I suppose not. I'm glad you are here, Ange."

"Me too, Bren," her friend smiled back, "Just wait 'til you see all we cooked up for you!"

Booth, who had been walking just ahead of them, held the door open for them and they all walked it.

"Oh, Ange!" Brennan gasped at the sight that lay before her.

"Cam did a lot of the local legwork and I rounded up everyone from back home," Angela told her.

Brennan could see how truthful the statement was. Caroline Julian, Hodgins, and Sweets, along with Russ and his family, were patiently sitting in the pews, apparently waiting for them to arrive. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the person sitting next to Sweets.

"Zack!" she cried, racing forward down the aisle, heedless of the cumbersome dress.

Zack Addy stood and greeted her with the quirky smile he wore whenever an experiment did exactly what he intended it to, "It is good to see you again, Dr. Brennan."

Sweets leaned over, "He's here for an extended therapy session. I have to take him back as soon as the ceremony is over."

Brennan nodded, not caring if Zack had broken out of the asylum again as she gave him a small hug, "It's good to see you too, Zack."

"Do I get a hug too?" a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

She whirled around to find her father behind her, dressed in a very nice black suit and obliged him with a hug, barely noticing as Angela unfurled the train on Brennan's dress.

"You're here," was all she could manage.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Sweetheart," he assured her, planting a kiss on her cheek, "Though I think it's time for us to take our places."

She looked around her, noting that everyone else was seated and that Booth was up at the front of the chapel, standing beside the man dressed in judicial robes, whom she assumed was the Justice of the Peace. Cam had taken a seat with the rest of the squints, while Parker, Maddie, and Joey were seated in the front row, restlessly swinging their legs, while Sadie sat comfortably in Angela's lap. She also noticed a group of people whom she did not recognize, though there was no time to speculate as Max took her by the elbow and escorted her to the back of the room.

Max nodded to the organist, who began the wedding march. Slowly, she allowed him to walk her up the aisle, anticipation building as every step brought her closer to Booth. Finally, they reached the small stage. Her father gave her another small peck on the cheek and placed her hand into Booth's outstretched one.

The man in the judicial robes led them through the traditional marriage vows with ease, and Brennan found that simply the feel of Booth's hands clasping hers firmly was enough to calm the torrent of nerves she had felt coming down the aisle. It felt oddly pleasing to slide the borrowed ring down the length of Booth's finger and she could tell he felt the same when it was his turn.

"By the authority vested in me by the state of Maryland, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the man announced as the ceremony came to a close, turning to Booth, "You may kiss your bride."

Booth stepped forward toward her, closing the gap that had separated them throughout the ceremony. Brushing a stray lock of hair aside, he cupped her face in his hands and leaned forward. She stood perfectly still, allowing him to come to her as their lips met. Shutting out those gathered around them, she allowed herself to concentrate solely on the man in front of her; a man who had proved time and again that he was wholly committed to her. And she realized as lips gave way to tongues, that she was committed to him as well and that she truly meant each one of the vows she had just spoken.

The Justice of the Peace cleared his throat as the kiss went on, "Ladies and gentlemen," he spoke around the couple, "I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Seeley Ryan Booth."

A cheer erupted from the small crowd, dragging the couple out of their kiss and back into their present surroundings.

""Bout time!" Caroline pronounced loudly, at which another round of applause ensued.

Booth beamed down at her, taking her by the elbow and leading her back up the aisle.

"Seeley," she muttered out of the side of her mouth as they walked, "Did he just call me Mrs. Booth?"

"It's tradition, Temperance," he muttered back, turning them around to greet their guests as they reached the door.

"Do you want me to change my last name?" she whispered, having never honestly considered what would occur once they had married.

"If you want to," he replied, all the while shaking hands with people as they filed out.

"That was not what I asked," she countered, still whispering, as she too shook people's hands.

"I never really thought about it," Booth said.

"Neither had I," she turned to face him, "Though that still doesn't mean I'm wholly comfortable with the concept."

"Hyphenate it," Angela came between them, "And for goodness' sake, lighten up," she shook her head, "Only you two would bicker at your own wedding!"

The forensic anthropologist blushed slightly, then looked around, noting that only a few guests remained "I would have thought more people would have stayed to converse with us."

"They're going over to the fire hall for the reception, Sweetie," Angela explained, "Amy took the kids over too, so don't worry your pretty little head. Right now, though, you two lovebirds are mine."

Angela pulled out her camera from its bag and gestured toward the front of the chapel. As Temperance moved down the aisle for the third time that night, she suddenly recognized one of the two unfamiliar women that she had spotted earlier as Booth's sister, Lizzy. She was a few years older than she had been in the photograph in Booth's townhouse.

"Seeley!" the younger woman embraced Booth as they approached, "Congrats, big bro, I'm glad we made it on time."

"Me too, Lizard Breath," Booth grinned back at her and returned the hug.

"Oh you," Lizzy punched Booth in the shoulder and stepped around him, extending her hand to her new sister-in-law, "I'm Elizabeth, but _most_ people call me Lizzy. My husband Todd is over at the reception with our three kids- Todd Jr., Sarah, and Jeffrey. Welcome to the Booth family madness! And if you guys are done with all of your undercover work by November, you are welcome to come meet the rest of the clan at Thanksgiving," she turned back to Booth, "Gramma's gonna kill you for getting hitched without her, Seels."

"It just kinda came up," he shrugged, "I barely had enough time to call you and Mom and Jared, and besides we were going for low-key, here, not a huge production."

"Just warning you," Lizzy clucked her tongue reprovingly, though Temperance sensed she was just teasing.

"Bones," Booth drew her close to him, "This is my mother, Leah, and my brother, Jared."

Leah stepped forward and embraced Temperance, "Welcome to the family, dear, Frank has to open his shop early tomorrow or he would've been here as well."

Temperance could see by the scowl on Booth's face that he doubted his mother's excuse for his father, but she said nothing and returned Leah's embrace.

"Pleased to meet you," Jared Booth said gallantly, kissing her hand, "I'm the good-looking Booth brother."

"Your face is more symmetrical than Seeley's," she nodded in reply, though there was something off-putting in Jared Booth's manner that made her believe she had married the better Booth.

"Alright, alright," Booth took her hand from Jared, his manner a bit more possessive than it normally was, "Ange, you ready for us?"

Angela nodded and for the next forty-five minutes she directed them all exactly where she wanted them. They posed several times alone, sometimes kissing, sometimes holding hands, and once with Temperance seated and Booth behind her. Family pictures were next, first with her family, then with his. Parker was brought over at the tail end of the session to pose with them as well and Angela allowed them to be more spontaneous and natural so that Parker wouldn't be bored.

At nine o'clock, they finally joined the others at the reception. They cut the large sheet cake, on which Angela had cleverly drawn a restaurant booth and a skull and crossbones side by side. Sadie attached herself to Temperance as soon as she could and fell asleep within minutes of them sitting down to rest.

Angela came by a few minutes later and took Sadie, "Hodgy and I are taking the kids for the night," she informed the newlyweds, "Cullen vowed to have at least four FBI guys around us at all times, so don't worry your pretty little head off, Booth."

"And where are we supposed to sleep?" Booth wanted to know.

"Just up the street," Angela dug around in her camera bag and handed him a key card, "Honeymoon suite at some five-star joint- Hodgins' treat, so enjoy. I hear there's a hot tub shaped like a champagne glass, too," she winked suggestively at them."

"Thank you, Ange," Booth said sincerely, "This went _way_ beyond the call of duty."

"It's family, big guy," Angela grinned, "You just take care of our girl."

"I certainly intend to," Booth put his arm around his wife's shoulder and pulled her to his side, "Though right now I'm going to go dance with her."

Angela waved as Temperance felt Booth leading her out onto the dance floor.

"Hello, wife," he grinned down at her.

"Hello, husband," she grinned back, enjoying the possessive feelings the word invoked.

As the music shifted to a softer song, she laid her head on his chest allowing him to guide her across the dance floor.

"You look beautiful, Bones," he spoke softly in her ear.

"And you are equally handsome," she returned, stepping back a bit and gazing up at him, "I definitely married the better Booth," she voiced her previous thought.

"Yeah?" he sounded unsure.

"Undoubtedly," she told him.

The song changed again and again she laid her head on his chest. She smiled, recognizing the song that had played in her living room that had set off this whirlwind of events. Resting safely in the confines of her husband's arms, she reflected on all that had happened since that night, finding it hard to believe that so much had happened in such a short span of time. Her lips curved into a smile as Booth began singing along softly.

When the song ended, he took her over to a darkened corner of the room, "I love you, Temperance Brennan."

"That's Temperance _Booth_ to you, Mr. Seeley Ryan Booth," she corrected with a wry grin, no closer to a decision on the permanent name change than she had been before, but deciding that if anyone had the right to call her Mrs. Booth it was her husband, "And I love you too."

He smiled from ear to ear, "Then I guess it really is a 'wonderful world' after all."

**And that's the end; of this story at least. Look for the sequel, "Home" to come in a few days. "Home" will pick up with B&B as they adjust to life in the Witness Protection Program and track down Candie Lane's killer. Hope to see you there, and let me know what you thought of this. I will post again here when the new story is up!**


	45. Authors Note

**The first chapter of "Home" is now available. Thanks again for all of the reviews!**

**See you at Home,**

**Gum**


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